The Potters and The Court Of The Dreamwalker
by scotty90
Summary: Tragedy strikes the Potter household as a new threat rises against the Wizarding World. Whether they want to or not, whether they know it or not, three Potters find themselves caught in their own private battle against the oncoming darkness.
1. Chapter 1: It's A Start

Far off in other parts of the castle the faint rumble of magic could be heard. Powerful spells were being cast, powerful enough to destroy the stones that made up Hogwarts. Powerful enough to obliterate Albus Potter without a doubt.

Albus crept through the halls, his feet padding softly on the cold stone as his heart pounded in his chest. What he was thinking was the fact that what he was doing was insane and he was going to get himself killed, that he should just run back to the Room of Requirement and evacuate with the rest of the students. But he knew he wouldn't, because there was another part of his brain that wondered how James and Neville and the others were getting on. If the occasional sound of magical destruction was the spell that killed them. No, he couldn't just run, he was the son of Harry Potter. He was the son of Harry Potter and he was not afraid.

No he wasn't afraid. He was terrified.

Somehow the lights that usually lit the hallways of Hogwarts had been put out, leaving everything a shade only slightly lighter than pitch black. The moonlight left silver patches in the stone as he jogged through the corridors, giving everything a surreal colourless look. None of this felt real. Someone attacking Hogwarts, the idea of it seemed preposterous. Of course he knew all the stories about the Second War against Voldemort, but to him Hogwarts had always seemed to be a safe haven. In the four years he'd been going here he'd never felt safer. Sure he knew about the Purifiers, everyone did. But that had all seemed so distant before, a far off problem that his father was handling. He never expected his father's war with the blood purists and the Death Eater remnants to reach his doorstep, but it had. Literally.

He reached a flight of stairs and ran down it, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of movement. He was under his father's Invisibility Cloak, thank God, but he wasn't going to get careless, that was a good way to get himself killed. James was the one for the heroics. Albus would be happy just helping in some way, but to do that he first had to find Nathan and the other seventh years.

He knew they must have been heading towards the Great Hall, so he had a rough idea of where they should be, but goddamit how fast must they have been moving? The small group must have slipped out the Room of Requirement barely five minutes before he followed after them self-shamed into helping with Hogwarts defence, but they were nowhere to be seen. His brother's friend Nathan was always nice to him, and older Gryffindor's other group of friends were nice enough for the most part. Plus they were all in their final year, so were bound to be much better at defending themselves than he was. If he was going to stand a chance at helping, he would need to stick with them. But first he had to find the bloody –

His heart leapt in his chest as he turned the corner and saw cloaked figures down the corridor. Stifling a gasp he jumped back round the corner clutching his mouth to keep any sound coming out. They must have heard him. His heart was hammering even harder now, reaching a level that couldn't have been medically safe. The sound was deafening to his own ears. He didn't get enough of a look at them to see who they were.

He was so screwed. What was he thinking, he was no hero. Unlike his father he was not the one to charge into danger. In fact he'd usually go out of his way to avoid it. He never felt less like a Gryffindor than he did now.

He had been so sure he was bound for Slytherin. The Sorting Hat even told him he was suited for it, but following his father's advice he had made his choice. And sitting on that stool four years ago Albus had chosen Gryffindor, unable to face the idea of facing his family as a Slytherin. Say one thing about Albus Potter, say he's a coward.

In his right hand he gripped his wand so tightly he was amazed it hadn't snapped. His eyes, wide as saucers, were pinned to the corner expecting a masked face to jump round and curse him any moment. His mind was racing, the same though repeating over and over.

_What am I doing out here? What am I doing out here? What am I doing out here?_

…

_Why am I hiding when I've got an Invisibility Cloak?_

He blinked stupidly for a moment. _Genius_. Off course they didn't see him. He strained his ears but couldn't hear anything over the sound of his still-pounding heart. Checking himself quickly he made sure he was still completely covered by the thin velvety fabric. Yep still covered, he was good. Hand still clamped over his mouth to muffle his breathing, he edged slowly round the corner, holding his wand shakily in front of him.

Peering round he could see the dark outline of several shapes. From this distance he couldn't make out who they were, but they were moving down the corridor towards the Great Hall. From the way they moved – quick, cautious, almost tactical - he would have sworn they were one the Purifier raiding parties he'd read so much about in the Prophet, but just at the edge of hearing he could just pick up the faint sound of whispering.

"…Look I understand what you're saying, but that doesn't mean we should just waltz in and -"

That voice, it was Nathan!

"Did you forget why we're here?" Hissed another voice, Alastair by the sound of it. The Slytherin boy had always made Albus feel uncomfortable. "Or do you want to go back to the Room of Requirement with the other sheep?"

"That not what I'm talking about!" Nathan hissed back. He kept speaking but they were moving too far away for Albus to make out what they were saying.

Clearly there was some kind of disagreement going on. But they were all there, Nathan, Alastair, David, their two Ravenclaw study buddies and that Takeda guy - Albus never liked him. Although he didn't know most of them that well it was good to see familiar faces. Another rumble shook the walls around them, this time much closer than before. The group dropped minutely and paused in almost perfect synchronisation before quickly getting up and moving on. Albus swallowed and crept closer, still trying his best to keep quiet.

He was glad to have finally caught up. Now that he had found them he might get an idea of what to do next. Albus would have been the first to admit he was no fighter, but he could still help. Now he just had to find a way of making himself known to them without getting a hex to the chest.

The bickering among Nathan and Alastair had stopped; the quiet murmur of their voices had died away. They had reached the end of the corridor and turned the corner. At this rate he was going to lose them. Upping his pace to a light jog he set off down the corridor after them, wandering how to introduce himself without shocking them into sudden attack. Perhaps he could just wait until they were round a corner and say one of their names while he had a wall between them and –

"You here that?"

For the second time in so many minutes Albus stopped dead in his tracks. That was not Nathan or any of the others. That voice had come from behind him.

Making sure he was as quiet as possible he turned around. Back the way he came he could make out two shapes. There was no mistaking them. Tall, black robed, white masked. They were Purifiers. Albus' heart dropped out his chest. These were the enemy. The ones his father was obsessing over. Remnants of the Death Eaters and the extremist supporters of blood purity, banded together in secret cabals for the sole purpose of spreading terror through the wizarding world they felt had abandoned the old ways. Merciless. Brutal. They killed men, women and children, and they standing only a few metres away.

Albus' mouth was dry. These men were killers; he was just a teenager who hadn't even started his OWL's yet. If they found him he was dead, or worse.

"Hear what?" the one at the back said.

Their wands were out as the pair scanned the hallway. Albus pressed himself against a wall, trying to make himself as small as possible despite the fact he was invisible. He wasn't sure what the man had heard, whether it was Albus' steps or Alastair and Nathan's bickering.

"Thought I heard something is all."

The one in front peered down the hallway. His wand was held outstretched in front of him, panning the hallway. From this distance Albus could see his mask. He'd heard countless stories from Uncle Ron about the Death Eaters, and the similarity in masks was clear. However, these masks were simpler, pale white over the face with black holes where the eyes were instead of a skull-like visage. The other difference was the red lines running down from the eyes. To Albus they looked like tears of blood, he guessed that was kind of the whole point. Uncle Ron had always told of the Death Eaters like a joke, or a vague menace to be fought in an epic and undoubtedly exaggerated story.

Looking at that blank mask the only thing Albus felt was terror. The empty black holes where eyes were supposed to be looked past him twice, and each time Albus was sure they were looking right at him, piercing him. It felt like he was being hunted by Death itself.

He found himself wishing the others had been a little slower, so that he wouldn't be alone to face these men. The thought left him feeling guilty but it wouldn't go away, that hoping others would be put in harms way to make his trouble easier. His father would be ashamed of him.

Another rumble shook the castle around them, and the two Purifiers glanced around themselves as if trying to place where it was coming from.

The second Purifier snapped his head towards the one who was searching, "We've got no time for this McLain. We have to get moving!"

McLain looked back at him, before looking over the corridor again. He couldn't have stood there for more than a few seconds, but for Albus there was an impossibly long moment as he crouched frozen under that empty gaze with his breath held frozen in his chest.

What had he been thinking in that foolish moment of bravery? Sneaking out of the Room of Requirement, ashamed of his cowardice. It had all seemed so unreal then, just sneak out, find the bad guys and help defend Hogwarts. But now that he was here, in the moment, the awful truth of it all rushed over him like a wave. He thought of Scorpius and his sarcastic, biting honesty. He thought of Keegan and his good natured but terrible advice. He thought of Amy and her wide toothy grin, and the way she had whispered his name before she had passed out from blood loss. He thought of all the family and friends that he would never see again.

This was no game, no story where he could always edge his way out of danger by a hero's luck. This man in front of him was a killer, and the second he got an idea that the son of Harry Potter was crouched no more than a few meters away Albus would be dead before he could blink. This was all a mistake. A terrible mistake.

After an age this McLain simply grunted and turned to follow his fellow Purifier, his cloak billowing behind him as he turned. He crossed the corridor back the way he had come and in a few short steps he was gone.

Albus wasn't sure how long he stayed frozen on the spot, but it felt like an hour. Oh god he should have just stayed in the Room of Requirement with the others. This was not him. This was dangerous. Scorpius was right, not everyone is meant for the life of a hero. He should just sneak back, apologise to Lily for the things he'd said, take care of Amy, and slip out with the other students. Albus had tried for years, but could never live up to his father's legacy. That role had always suited James much better. James…

James was out there somewhere, fighting to defend Hogwarts, along with so many others. His teachers, some of his friends, they were all putting their lives on the line to protect each other and those who could not protect themselves. They all knew the risks, just like he did, but they were choosing to fight anyway.

What kind of man would he grow up to be if he turned and ran now?

Albus let out a long shaky breath, trying to steel his nerves. He was the son of Harry Potter, no matter how little he felt like it at times. Despite everything he was a Gryffindor and he could be brave. He didn't have to be a hero like his father; he only had to do what he could. He only had to help.

Keeping as quiet as possible, he picked himself up. His legs sent shocks of pins and needles up through him, and he shook them lightly to get some feeling back. He looked back the way the Purifiers had left; no sign of them. Checking to make sure he was still completely covered by his father's cloak, he made his way carefully along the corridor and began to descend the stairs after the others. He didn't have to be a hero he reminded himself, he only had to help. He could start by catching up with the older students. If anyone had a plan, it was them.

Besides, how much danger could he get into if no one could see him?

XXXXX

The moonlit stones that made up the floors and walls of Hogwarts began to dissolve, turning pale and silver and softly fading like steam. Standing at the top of the staircase his son had just ran down was Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and the twice over Saviour of the Wizarding World. He couldn't see Albus of course, but he could hear his soft footsteps easy enough. Even those two began to fade with the stone as the world around him crumbled away into a swirling silver mist.

His face was crossed with worry. He had the look of a man who hadn't slept well in a week, waking in tears after a night of bad dreams. There were dark rings around his eyes and unkempt stubble over his chin. He kept looking down at where moments before a Hogwarts staircase had been with a face of icy concentration.

"Okay I don't get it," said a voice behind him,

He turned around to see his son James. The boy had a mass of bandages over one side of his head and face. The eye on that side was sickeningly bloodshot. Other than that he looked exactly like he had when Harry had dropped him off at Platform 9 and 3 quarters at the end of the Christmas holidays. He had the same unruly hair of his father, though his eyes were brown instead of his father's green. Actually, based on the few pictures he'd managed to find Harry had always felt that James always bore a striking similarity to his namesake, only minus the glasses. Strange how neither of his sons never needed the damn things.

"What's not to get? Looked pretty straightforward to me."

Over on James' right was his godfather and Harry's best friend Ron. Like Harry he looked pretty worse for wear, though he had managed to shave at least.

"But I talked to Nathan," James continued, "And David. Neither of them said anything about Albus. If he had run into them, they would have told me."

"This is all we've been able to get so far," Ron said gruffly, his arms crossed over his chest. "This is the first time we've been able to see the night of the attack. We still don't know if Albus managed to catch up to your friends, or if he ever came out from the Cloak. For all they know he could have been with them the entire time."

"But that doesn't make any sense!" James countered sharply, his voice rising higher. Harry couldn't blame him. His son's nerves were frayed. They had all been through a lot lately. "Why would he stay hidden? Albus knew they would be his best shot at getting something done. If he _had_ caught up with them he would have shown himself." He ruffled one of his hands through his hair in frustration, "This is a waste of time!"

His voice was strained, and with a desperate edge to it that Harry could relate too all to well. It had been almost a month since the battle at Hogwarts when the Purifiers had attacked the school. And none of the Potters had been sleeping all that well lately. Not since Albus…

Harry's fists were clenched so hard he could feel his fingernails digging into his palms. None of this was supposed to happen. He had won his war. He was supposed to live happily with his family. Hadn't he earned it? They had never expected something like this.

"James." Harry said. His voice came out as a croak and he had to cough slightly before he could continue. "This is all we've been able to get so far. We just need to –"

"How do we even know this bloody thing even works?!" James spat out angrily, swatting away the hand Harry had been lifting towards his shoulder. He turned around and gestured furiously at the still fading mist around the three of them. Slowly it was clearing, gradually revealing the walls of a small room. "How do we know Hermione didn't screw up somehow?! None of this could even be right!"

Ron and Harry shared a quick look. Knowing from the look on his friends face, Ron had bitten back a reflexive retort to defend his wife. He just turned towards a seat that had just faded into view and sat down heavily, shaking his head sadly.

"Look James," Harry said, trying to placate his son's temper, "I know you're frustrated, we all are. But you need to give it time. No one's ever used a Pensieve like this before. It's going to take some time to piece all of this together."

As he spoke he walked over to James and placed his hand softly on his shoulder. This time his son didn't resist, he just dropped his head to look at the floor. For a moment they stood there in silence. Harry couldn't think of anything he could say.

"What happened to him dad?" James' voice was quiet, and the desperation in it broke Harry's heart. "I just want to know what they did to him."

Harry instinctively turned his head to face the bed Ron had taken a seat next to. It still made his heart shudder to look at his youngest son like this, and he had to restrain himself from clenching his fist again.

Lying face up on the bed was Albus. He had several cuts and bruises but they were mostly superficial. If anyone were to walk in they would probably assume to skinny, black haired boy was sleeping.

But he wasn't.

As far as anyone could tell, and Harry had tried _everyone_ he could think of, nothing was wrong with his son. Except he wasn't waking up.

They had found Albus in what was left of the Great Hall and they had brought him to St. Mungo's straight away. And apart from a few non serious wounds he had seemed perfectly fine.

_Except he_ _wasn't waking up._

Harry's stomach gave a familiar lurch. It killed him to see his son like this. It wasn't a coma. The healers at St. Mungo's had clarified that much. Whatever was wrong with him it was something no one knew about, and it was the not knowing that was killing Harry. He barely slept anymore, he couldn't. Someone knew what was wrong with him. Someone had done this to him. Someone out there had done this to his son.

He looked back at his oldest, who had also turned to look at Albus. His face was unreadable.

Ron straightened up from his chair, "That's something we're going to have to figure out." He puffed out his cheeks and ran his hands through his bright red hair. "This Pensieve thing's got to be the only shot we have. Everyone else at the Ministry is stumped at what could have done this. I mean, you saw Rosier right?" Harry looked at him and repressed a shudder. Like Ron he had tried every contact in the Ministry he had to find out what had happened. He also tried his contacts outside the Ministry. He had even led interrogations of a number of dark wizards in Azkaban, desperate for any clues. All of them had failed to account for anything that could explain what happened to the leader of the Purifiers. Harry, Ron and Hermione had found Rosier in the Great Hall, what was left of him at least.

Ron carried on, "And Hermione's been hitting the books with a vengeance since, and she has _still_ doesn't have an idea at what kind of curse could have done _that_."

Harry was inclined to agree with him. Rosier was one of the first Death Eaters. He had gone to Hogwarts with Tom Riddle himself. Sure he was in his nineties when he led the Purifiers to attack Hogwarts, but Harry had been tracking his movements enough to know he was by no means any slouch. In the wizarding world an age of ninety meant something completely different than it did in the muggle world. The man was leading what was essentially a Death Eater revival, recruiting dark witches and wizards from all over Europe to aid in his cause. What they found in the Great Hall was… well Harry's first impression was that the man had received a Dementor's Kiss. Surrounded by the rubble of the hall in a perfect circle of impossibly clean stone like everything in the area had been blasted away to the finest level, was the empty shell that had been Rosier.

But empty shells don't mumble incoherent gibberish.

Empty shells don't cry.

No, something else had happened in that hall. Something terrible had been done to Rosier.

And Albus had seen it.

They found him in the rubble of the hall. He was still under the Invisibility Cloak, but enough debris had covered him that Harry had found him. He unearthed Albus in a mad haze and pulled out of the wreckage, comatose and staring blankly at nothing. His son, now lying comatose in the Potter house.

He was Harry Potter, people expected him to do miracles. But he couldn't find a way to save his son. Not without finding out who did this do him.

"This is our best lead at the moment," he said, indicating the bowl placed on a small table behind Albus' head. The other two looked up at him. "The trail on what happened to Rosier has gone cold. Right now all we have are Albus' memories. Hermione's new Pensieve should be able to show us what happened on the night of the attack. If we can see that then we can see what happened to Albus. If we can do that we can find a way to save him." He turned to face his James, "Son, I can't imagine what this must be like for you. But if we're ever going to find a way to help Albus, you need to help us."

James nodded once. His eyes were fierce, and Harry felt a surge of pride in his first born. "What do you need me to do?"

Over in his seat Ron clapped his hands together once and rubbed them like he was preparing to lift something heavy. "Alright! First of all we need to follow up on what we saw. 'Mione's little beauty still isn't running well enough to control what we are seeing. And we can't just sit around waiting for another useful memory to pop out, so we need to investigate our best lead as to who saw Albus last."

"We need you to tell us who's in that group Albus saw," Harry continued.

James took a shaky breath and walked over to the foot of Albus's bed. Harry stood next to him, listening closely. For the first time in weeks, he finally felt like he was getting something done. If only Hermione had worked out the Pensieve modifications earlier then they might have made some progress before now.

"Well from what I could see, it was everyone in Nathan's group," James said, "Except for Bertie."

Ron had conjured a notepad and was scribbling notes on it, "Bertie?"

"Short for Bertram. Bertram Hedge," James continued, "Nice guy, bit dim. He was with the rest of the students that evacuated through the Hog's Head. Never was much of a fighter. Stereotypical Hufflepuff."

Harry remembered the boy; he'd stayed over for a summer a couple years ago. He was a nice kid. He always reminded Harry of Neville in his early years before he came into his own.

Ron nodded, still scribbling. "Got it. So who did you see in the corridor then?"

James let out a long breath, "Okay, so obviously there was Nathan and Alastair as well."

"Nathan I know. Who's Alastair?" Harry asked.

"Alastair Lockheed. He was the one arguing with Nathan. Those two are always having a go at each other, I always wondered how they managed to get along. I mean he's a nice enough guy once you get to know him, but the two are complete opposites. Alastair's rich, like Zabini rich. And he's in Slytherin as well. I hear he's doing quite well in the Ministry now."

Both Ron and Harry looked up. "The Ministry?" Ron said, "I haven't heard the name." He looked over at Harry, "You?"

Harry shook his head. As Head of the Auror Office, and with Ron as his Second, they knew almost anyone worth knowing at the Ministry, unless…

"He's an Unspeakable," James explained, "Went straight into it after graduating."

Harry nodded. That would explain it. If this Alistair kid worked in the Department of Mysteries then it made sense they wouldn't know much about him. There was no part of the Ministry more secretive than them. Still, doesn't mean the kid couldn't be reached.

"Okay, who else?"

James' brow furrowed in thought, "Well there was definitely Takeda. His family moved over here from Japan. I never really got along with him, though to be honest he didn't get along with most people. He didn't really speak much English."

Harry's eyes widened at the name. He recognised it. Neville had mentioned him when debriefing Harry on the attack. Neville had seen the boy fighting Purifiers in the courtyard. Impressive spellwork apparently.

"Neville saw him on the night," Harry said, making James and Ron look his way again, "He said he's a very skilled wizard, didn't use any verbal magic." Of course it was expected for a wizard of his age to know how to use non verbal spells. But exclusively, and in the middle of a pitched battle? Even most Aurors wouldn't try to do that.

To Harry's surprise, James let out a bark of laughter. "Skilled?" he asked with a chuckle, "Nah, the guys an arrogant sod." He waved his hand dismissively. "From second year onwards he worked on non verbal magic. Apparently he doesn't like to speak anything other than his native tongue. There was a rumour going around that his family emigrated to Britain 'cos of some trouble they had back in Japan. Some accusations of dark magic, if you belief all that. Either way, as I don't know him that well. He was in Slytherin and I never really spent a whole lot of time with him."

"So where's he now?" Ron asked from behind his notepad.

"No idea," James said, "But I could always ask Nathan."

Harry nodded again. He wasn't sure what to make of what James had told him. School gossip was one thing, but accusations of dark magic in the family could be quiet serious, especially in this day and age. He might just have to look into that…

"Okay do that. Now who else was there?" Ron said.

James looked thoughtful for a second, his eyes going unfocused as he made a mental picture of the figures they'd seen in Albus' memory.

"Okay there were three more figures." he said, "And there's only three people it could be. That would be Katherine, Samuel and David."

Ron's quill scratched across the paper as he struggled to keep up. He was never one for writing when he could help it, "So you know them?"

James scratched the back of his head absently. "More or less, I know David pretty well, but Katherine and Samuel are Ravenclaws so we didn't hang out a lot. Both of them are about as Ravenclaw as you can get actually, Samuel especially. Apparently he was some kind of child genius in the muggle schools before he came to Hogwarts, but he was never all that great with magic. Katherine and him spent most of their time studying in the library."

"And so you never saw them," Harry added dryly.

James gave a small grin at that, "No not really. I tried hitting on Katherine a few times but she never really took me up on it. Really shy girl, she only started hanging out with Nathan's lot in our last year, so I couldn't tell you much about her."

Ron nodded without looking up, "And who was the third person?"

"David. He was in Gryffindor with me and Nathan"

Harry stepped in at that; he recognised the name, "The same David I got called in about last year?"

James had the decency to look sheepish at that, and for good reason. Harry had been called in from work to the Headmaster's office. His son and a certain David Bonham had apparently set fire to one of the outlying towers of the school. James had insisted the whole thing had been purely accidental – an attempt to launch some specially designed fireworks over the Great Hall at lunchtime that had ended disastrously. He had been mad about it, but when James later told Harry what the fireworks were supposed to spell out he couldn't help but laugh. All in all, it was probably for the best they didn't go off.

"Yeah that's the one." he said, "He was always getting into trouble; I think he even got suspended once in fifth year, but I never got the details. Bit of a hothead actually, but he's a good guy. He got messed up quite bad that night, worse than I did."

"I heard." Harry said. From the after action report Harry had seen, David had been one of the students who had sustained serious injuries during the attack on Hogwarts. He had to be emergency portkeyed to St. Mungo's with a handful of other students and staff. The boy had recovered but lost a deal of mobility in his right arm, which unfortunately turned out to be his wand arm. Harry considered him one of the lucky ones though, not everyone had survived the night.

"Yeah well I spoke to him afterwards; he told me he got it fighting ten Purifiers singlehandedly." James scoffed, "So at least he's taking it all quite well."

"So is that everyone?" Ron asked.

James scratched at the bandage on the side of his face, "Yeah I think so."

"How does Nathan even know these kids?" Ron asked with his usual subtlety, "I mean, they're all in different houses."

James just shrugged, "House divisions aren't what they used to be. But I don't really know how they all met; Nathan just started hanging out with them in third year. Honestly I thought it was an odd mix as well, but you never know."

"Never mind that." Harry said, "We need to talk to each of them and find out if they saw anything that could tell us what Albus was doing. You're still keeping in touch with Nathan then?"

"Yeah."

"Well send him an owl; he'll probably know where the rest of the group went after graduating. It's a start," he said, reassuring both the others and himself.

For the first time in weeks, Harry felt something besides the nagging doubt and fear that plagued him since he had found Albus. It _was_ a start. It might not lead to much, or anything at all, but they couldn't just sit around and wait for the Pensieve to spit out another memory. They needed to get out there and do something, make some progress, anything besides just sitting on their hands.

James nodded, "I'm on it." And with that he hurried out the room.

Harry watched the doorway his son left through, and couldn't help but smile. Maybe he wasn't the only one who was sick of waiting. James had always been a bit of a hothead if he didn't have something to vent his energy on. A task like this was just what the boy needed.

"You didn't tell him."

He looked back over his shoulder. Ron was still sitting in the chair beside Albus' bed with a stern look on his face.

"He's got enough to worry about right now," Harry said, "Besides, we don't know anything for sure at this point."

"Well we know one thing," Ron continued, frowning, "Rosier was on the fast track to becoming the first Dark Lord Britain's seen since Riddle."

"I know, I ju-"

"And whoever took him out didn't just kill him. They _ruined_ him."

"I get it Ron."

"I hope so mate, 'cos if there is a new Dark Lord running around then we have no idea what they're up to or what kind of firepower they really have." He fixed Harry with a serious gaze Harry had only seen a handful of times "And that scares the hell out of me."

Harry let out a breath. By Merlin he was tired. "Yeah. Me too."

They didn't know anything for sure, but the possibility was still there. A new Dark Lord; something Harry had been working so hard to prevent since he joined the Ministry. And one that they knew nothing about. The word disaster didn't even cover it.

They had to find out what happened that night, what _really_ happened. Albus saw it. Albus had the answer. Now all Harry had to do was find out happened to his son.

XXXXXXXXXX

**Author's notes:**

**So first of all I want to take a stab at heading off any annoyance people may have over Albus' House. **

**Yes, Albus is a Gryffindor in this fic. I get that Slytherin Albus is almost certainly canon, but I just personally think the whole thing's been done to death in fanfiction where Albus' main characterisation comes from his being in Slytherin and the problems he has to go through because of it. I wanted to write something where the problems and challenges Albus faces are more caused by internal factors and who he is as a person. Sorry if this bugs anyone, but hey, adding your own spin on stuff is the whole joy of fanfiction!**

**Yeah, so this is my second stab at a fic. My first is a Naruto fic that I'm stuck on. Mostly because I really struggle with writing for characters that have already been defined, which is why a Harry Potter continuation is ideal. It lets you go off and create your own stuff without being reined in by trying to keep people in character.**

**And in a side note, I've included a wee reference in this chapter in celebration of Joe Abercrombie's new book coming out. I'm a huge fan of his and couldn't resist putting something in. If you're a fan of his the reference should stick out like a sore thumb. If not then well… it wont. **

**Enough rambling! **

**Thanks so much for reading. You rock. **


	2. Chapter 2: Old Acquaintances And New

It was early morning and the first rays of light were pouring through the windows, leaving long strips of light in the still air of the kitchen. Harry sat at the kitchen table with his hands held together resting under his chin. Normally he would enjoy the silence of the Potter house in the early hours of the day, when the wife and kids would still be in bed and he would have these few moments of peace before the day began.

But these days the silence seemed heavy, like a weight pushing down on every inch of his body. He never thought he would miss the hectic noise of three kids running around the house screaming and arguing with each other, but here he was.

His eyes gazed ahead at nothing as he ran through the day's itinerary. Nathan's owl had arrived last night, and James had run through to Harry's study to tell him that they had agreed to meet in Diagon Alley for lunch. With any luck the boy could tell them something useful and they would be able to piece together what happened to Albus that night.

As Head Auror, Harry didn't have as much free time as he would have wanted to follow up on the investigation. The Purifier movement had all but broken when they had attacked Hogwarts that night, but that didn't mean there weren't some known members still out there deep in hiding.

Harry had the department monitoring all appartition, portkey and floo travel out of the country, checking all traces against each member's magical signature. That had been a particularly difficult feat to accomplish, even for the Head Auror. Luckily, having more than a few friends in powerful positions, a seat of the Wizamagot and the respect of the Wizarding World didn't hurt in getting seemingly impossible tasks taken care of. Either way, if any known Purifiers tried to leave Britain, they'd be rotting in Azkaban before their dizziness had worn off.

But the smarter members who were still free were still hiding out somewhere, and it was still his job to bring them in. For several years he had been in a silent war with the organisation, but had met with little success as time went on and their numbers grew. Not all of them were blood purists, despite the group's reputation. The movement had started slowly, with former Death Eaters and their sympathisers meeting in secret. It had taken several years for them to do anything more than group together and whine about the lost glory that Riddle's defeat had spelled for the pure bloods. But once Rosier had taken on the mantle of leadership things had changed quickly.

Four years ago they had conducted a raid on Diagon Alley, killing six people and injuring several dozen others. They had announced their existence and their mission of eradicating the Mudblood taint that had infected the heart of Britain and from that point Harry had been fighting his shadow war against them. Although they had had some limited success in the early days, it had gotten harder and harder for Harry to stay ahead of the organisation. In the weeks leading up to the attack Harry had been operating almost completely in the dark as he found it more and more difficult to obtain any usable information. It was as if the slippery bastards had always been one step ahead of him.

It had been a tip off from Victor Krum of all people that had alerted Harry to the fact that Rosier had begun recruiting members from outside of Britain to join the cause. Since then, they had posed no small threat to the public as their terrorist activities began escalating despite all of Harry's efforts to track them.

It had been during one such raid that they had launched their all out attack on Hogwarts. It had been the last night of the school year. Harry had been clearing out one of their bases when he had gotten the call. He apparated to Hogsmeade as soon as he had heard but by that point the battle was mostly over. He had met Ron and Hermione on the way up to the castle and together they had stormed Hogwarts, regrouped with the survivors and found Albus.

He had failed as Head Auror to stop the menace, and Hogwarts students had paid for that with their lives. He had been too late to save his son, and now here he was sitting in his kitchen and fighting to find a way to fix everything.

"Still brooding?"

Harry had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he had completely failed to notice the arm slide over his shoulder and around his chest. Or the red topped head that had settled next to his. As such, the soft words spoken directly into his ear made him jump nearly out his chair.

Ginny ignored his shock and gave him a light hug. She was hunched down behind his chair and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Must've been a good one then" she continued softly in that soothing tone Harry had termed her 'morning voice'.

"You startled me is all." Harry replied, slightly embarrassed to have been caught so out of it. He put his hand on top of hers and turned around to face her. She was wearing her bathrobe, a bright yellow monstrosity, and her iconic Weasely hair was sticking out oddly. She must have just gotten up. "You're up early."

She smiled at him, "I felt you get up and couldn't get back to sleep." She took his hand and levelled him with an analytical gaze he had come to know very well over the years. "I've been worried about you Harry."

She called him Harry, it must have been serious. He gave a weary sigh. He knew he hadn't been dealing with this whole disaster very well. "I'm just worried about Albus."

"We all are. But you worrying yourself to death isn't going to help anything. And things are looking up aren't they. I mean, you've had a breakthrough with Hermione's new Pensieve haven't you?" she asked.

It had been a stroke of luck really. Hermione, in one of her many personal projects, had been experimenting with the enchantments on Pensieves. Harry still didn't understand a word of it when she tried to explain it to him; it was all quantum overlays and unifying runework triggers. Either way she had come up with a way to modify a Pensieve so that it could project a subject's memories while they were still in their head as opposed to pulling them out manually to be placed directly into it. The applications were limited, but for catatonic patients and sufferers of mental trauma it could allow a new avenue for insight into their damaged minds. Neville, for obvious reasons, had been very interested in the breakthrough when he had been told. And so had Harry.

"We still don't know if we'll be able to learn anything useful," he said, hating himself for the pessimistic thought, "But you're right, we might be onto a way to help Albus."

Ginny gave a sad smile as she stroked the side of his face, "Exactly. Now all you've got to do is keep it together. You're no good to us half dead, love."

With a twinge Harry realised he had neglected how the rest of the family had been dealing with the whole crisis. He had been so wrapped up in the whole thing that he hadn't spent much time taking into account how the rest of them were coping. Having your son stuck in a vegetative state was bad enough, but when your husband starts falling apart as well…

Harry remembered how Ginny had been when they had showed her Albus. He had held her while she sobbed into his arms, and promised her over and over that he would find a way to fix it. Now three weeks later she was the one holding the family together; keeping Lily occupied so she didn't think too hard about Albus, making sure James didn't burn himself out with his frustration, organising with the parents of Albus' friends so they could come to visit him. And through it all putting up with Harry's melancholy. She was a much stronger person than he was, and it was one of the reasons he loved her.

"I know, I know, and I'm sorry. I know haven't been dealing with this very well. And I know you've had to deal with me being a mopey git." That at least earned him a smile, "But I feel better now. Really I do. I don't know how to describe it, other than I'm finally getting something done."

Ginny gave him another smile and moved to stand up, "Well I'm glad. It's been hard enough with Albus… stuck the way he is. I don't want to have to worry about you too."

Harry gave a smile of his own and nodded. "Fair enough. I'll try and do better." He leaned forward and kissed her. "I love you."

"I love you too, dear."

And with that she snapped up, transforming into the cheerful witch he knew so well. She walked over to the stove and summoned a frying pan with a flick of her wand.

"Now, what do you want for breakfast?"

"I'm not really that hungry, love."

She leaned back and patted him on the head condescendingly. "Of course you're not dear, but I'm not having you shrink back into that skinny boy from Hogwarts. Besides," she continued, grinning cheerfully, "the great Harry Potter needs a full breakfast if he's going to be off saving the world."

Harry leant back and felt a much more genuine smile crossing his face. Perhaps some breakfast wouldn't really be so bad.

XXXXX

The sun burned furiously over the streets of Diagon Alley, making the colours of the stalls and the summer crowds shine more bright and vivid than normal. James Potter worked his way through the crowd with his head lowered, ignoring the cheerful calls of street vendors and the excited cries of children. He was not as famous as his father, but he still got stopped occasionally for no better reason than being the son of the great Harry Potter. Sure it could be kinda cool, and it never hurt his chances with the ladies, but all in all he was glad that his wounds from Hogwarts still hadn't fully healed and he needed a bandage to cover a large portion of his face.

He shouldered his way past a crowd of people outside Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour where the heat ensured a steady stream of customers. The sign above the shop had been charmed to call out new deals and flavours to passers by. As James walked past it called out in a squeaky voice, "_Try the new Chimera Cone! Three ferocious flavours in one ice-cream! Make sure you eat it before it eats you!_"

It was hard to believe that the last time he was in Diagon Alley over the Christmas Holiday the place had been almost deserted. With the Purifier's growing bolder with the success of their attacks people had been less inclined to walk the streets and stay in crowded areas. Now, people just looked happy to be alive. They had little idea of what really happened in the Purifier attack on Hogwarts, only that the leader of the movement, Rosier, was in custody and the Purifiers had mostly been wiped out. James smiled grimly to himself, ignoring the light burning sensation of his wounded skin stretching. He wondered how happy these people would be if they knew what had really happened to Rosier that night.

He worked his way through the bustle towards Madam Clearwater's, the café he had agreed to meet Nathan at. Surely enough, he could see his old friend perched in his chair at one of the outdoor tables. He was watching the crowded ambling past through his dark hair with a wistful look on his face and a pint of Clearwater Brew in his hand. From the angle he was sitting at he didn't see James approaching until he was right next to the table.

"Bit early don't you think?" he asked.

Nathan looked up and his broad face split into a wide grin. "James!" he shouted. He stood up in a hurry and gripped James in a hug. "It's good to see you mate." He held him at arms length and gave his bandaged face a look over. "You look terrible."

It was said with the casual, brutal honesty only an old friend could give, and James couldn't help but grin himself.

"Yeah, well I'm still a more of a looker than you ever were." He said as he took a seat across from him.

Nathan waved off the jab with his free hand and sat back down. "You fancy a drink?"

James shook his head, "Nah it's a tad early for me, thanks."

"Suit yourself," Nathan said with a shrug. He ran his hand over his jaw, where he had let his facial hair grow into a dishevelled stubble which he once told James made him look 'dashing'. James didn't see it then and he didn't see it now.

"Won't you get it any trouble with your boss at Hermes? You know… getting drunk on your lunch break isn't exactly ideal for a broomstick tester."

Nathan gave him a patronizing look, "Having a pint with your lunch doesn't count as getting drunk, mate. Besides," he said with a sly grin, "If I remember correctly you weren't so impartial to a few drinks before flying yourself."

James smiled sheepishly at that as he reached for a menu, "That was just the one time."

In their sixth year Nathan had dared David and James to down a full mug of smuggled Firewhisky each before their quidditch match against Hufflepuff. They were all on the team; Nathan as Chaser, David as Beater and James taking the role of Seeker like his father had. They had accepted the dare and choked down the burning liquid, trying not to puke. David had performed horribly as Beater, almost knocking out their teammate Susanna with his club at one point. James on the other hand had caught the snitch in a personal best of four minutes thirty nine seconds.

"Whatever you say mate."

An attractive waitress approached the table wearing smart dress robes that ended above the knee. "So are you two ready to order?" She asked with a bright smile.

As the two gave their order to the pretty young witch James got the distinct impression that she was flirting with Nathan. She started curling her hair around her finger while he was giving his order and even laughed abruptly at a comment he made about his steak that wasn't meant to be funny. Nathan for his part did his best to ignore it and carried on with his order. After a slightly awkward pause she scampered off inside the café, looking embarrassed.

"You take one curse to the face and suddenly you're invisible to every good looking witch in London!" James said holding up his hands in mock annoyance.

"Hard lines pal," Nathan said, "Looks like your doomed to live out the rest of your days looking like the wrong end of a Blast Ended Skrewt. Still you're a sight better than when I found you, eh?"

"Ah at least its only for another couple weeks." James rubbed at his bandages again. Talking about his injury always gave him a phantom itch. "You know, I'm pretty sure she likes you."

"The waitress?"

"No, the Thestral sitting next to you. Yes the waitress you idiot. She's pretty cute too."

Nathan looked back over his shoulder at the door she had left through for a moment before turning back to the table and shrugging again.

"Meh, I'm not really looking for anything at the moment," he said as he reached for his pint.

James gave him with an incredulous look. "Seriously mate. Still?"

Nathan's eyes snapped up at James. He finished his mouthful of beer with a grimace. "Shut up man," he said in a weary tone.

"What's it been, like, two years?"

"Shut up shut up Shut Up."

"It's about time you moved on."

"I'm not having this conversation again."

"I'm just saying –"

"Enough!" Nathan said the last word with a tone of finality. He took another swig of his drink and settled back into his chair. "That's not what I was talking about."

Suddenly he looked uncomfortable, as though he was desperate to avoid the way the conversation seemed to be going. "So how's the family?" he asked out of the blue.

James felt a stab of annoyance at his friend's ham-fisted attempt the change the topic. Although it was an innocuous enough question for most conversations, any witch or wizard who wasn't living under a rock knew the current state of the Potter family and it wasn't exactly a cheerful topic. Still, he had asked.

"Well Dad's doing fine; he's just been real busy trying to clear up the whole mess with the Purifiers. Mum's been taking Lily out on shopping trips and girly days since she got back from Hogwarts. Teddy's still away on his Gringott's assignment in Sweden, but he said he'd be back in the UK soon," James took a breath, "It's Albus that we're all really worried about."

Nathan's face dropped as quickly as if he'd been told a family member had died. "Shit I'm sorry James, I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine."

"No I'm really sorry," Nathan looked uncharacteristically sombre, and James felt an illogical twinge of guilt for bringing it up. "So how is Al getting on? Any changes?"

"No." James said, making Nathan nod his head awkwardly and reach for another drink. James felt bad for his friend. He didn't like talking about his little brother's situation anymore than Nathan liked hearing about it. All of a sudden the mood at the table didn't seem at all fitting with the bright summer day and the cheerful crowds around them. Still, he _had_ owled Nathan for a reason, and that reason had been Albus.

"But there is something," he said, making Nathan look up. "Dad's trying out something new; something we think might have a chance of working out what happened to him."

Nathan's demeanour brightened considerably at that. "Seriously? That's great James!" he said, "What is it, some kind of potion?"

James gave him a brief overview of the last week. Hermione's breakthrough with Pensieve technology. Harry's idea that it could be used with Albus. When he got to the memory of Albus in the Hogwarts corridor Nathan's jaw was hanging open.

"So he was there… He was right there the whole time," he shook his head sadly, "James I'm sorry, if I had known I –"

"So you didn't see him that night?" James felt the hope dying in his chest as he said the words, "None of you?"

Nathan looked miserable, "I'm sorry James I can't help you, I never saw him. As for the others I couldn't tell you, we got separated pretty early on. Things got pretty crazy that night."

James felt the dying spark in his chest flare back to life, "So one of the others might have seen him?"

"I couldn't tell you mate," Nathan said with a shrug, "None of them mentioned it to me afterwards. I just spent the night trying to link up with anyone and scrapping with Purifiers till I found you at the Quidditch pitch."

James nodded, barely listening, "Nathan I'm gonna need to get in touch with them. Do you know where they are now?"

No doubt Nathan took from James' tone that this was serious because he held up his hand and began counting off his fingers immediately, "Well Samuel's out the country, touring museums in Europe last I heard. Bertie's working in some robe shop in Manchester. David's not doing much of anything; big surprise that, with his injury and all…"

James waved him along, "I know about Bertie and David. Alistair too, what about the others?"

"Right, well Takeda's living on his family's estate. I guess doing nothing seems more acceptable when you're loaded. And Katherine's got herself an apprenticeship at the Department of Transport."

James blinked, "She's working at the Ministry as well?"

"Yeah, went straight into it same as Alistair."

"Huh," was all James could say. It would easy to get in touch with her then. With all of them really, except perhaps for Samuel. This didn't seem like such a difficult task after all. He looked back up as the waitress brought their plates over. Nathan thanked her as he took his plate, ignoring another pointed smile.

"Cheers mate," James said after a moment, "I really appreciate this."

"Don't worry about it," Nathan replied as he started cutting into his steak, "Anything that can help Al out."

James smiled at that. No, not so difficult at all. With any luck, one of them would have a better idea of what happened to Albus. It wasn't a stretch to think that bumping into James' shy little brother was not the first thing people remembered when they thought about that night. Nathan had been right about one thing; it _had_ gotten pretty crazy in Hogwarts when the Purifiers attacked. But if he questioned them, they should know something, _must _know something. And then he was one step closer to finding out what happened to his little brother.

"Still, I do appreciate it," he said as he began to tuck into his own lunch. Nathan grunted in reply, his mouth full of food.

They ate in silence for a moment. Each of them cutting into their respective plates and once again enjoying the warm weather and cheerful atmosphere of the busy Diagon Alley. A group of excited kids ran past their table. One blonde kid in a Chudley Cannons t-shirt held a massive balloon in the shape of a dragon that was charmed to roar every few seconds. Across the street a witch could be seen chewing her husband out for some ill thought out purchase he had just made involving an enchanted piano. Everywhere around them people went about their business or just enjoyed their summer. All in all James found that it was suddenly a lot easier to appreciate the day.

"So," James asked after a minute, not quite succeeding in keeping a cheeky grin off his face, "You've been keeping in touch with Katherine then?"

"I told you to shut up."

XXXXX

Harry walked through the corridor in a daze on his way to the elevator. His meeting with Leopold Marcus, the current Minister of Magic, had been a blur. He had found it hard to pay attention to what old man had been saying but it had mostly been a reiteration of what he knew before; The Purifiers were still out there, they were still a threat, it was his responsibility as Head of the Auror Office and so on and so on. He honestly didn't know why the man expected so much from him. Even before the attack on Hogwarts he had been outmanoeuvred by the blood purists. Now that they an estimated fewer than dozen members left it was going to be that much harder to do anything about them. Still, Harry had calmly reassured the aging Minister that the Auror Office was doing all it could to track down the rogue wizards - locating spells, automated decoys and the like. It was only a matter of time.

Harry got into the elevator after an enormous wide set man in a bright purple three piece suit. Despite the size of the elevator he found himself cramped in the corner which normally would have annoyed him, but today he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts. He even forgot to move his head to let the flying interdepartmental memos past and ended up getting pecked in the temple by an irate note requesting more scented toilet paper for the Wizamagot Administration Department as it tried to dart past him.

He was just too caught up in what he was going to do to solve the Albus situation. Until he heard from James he couldn't make any steps to piecing together his son's movements that night. Even if one of Nathan's friends had seen Albus there was no guarantee that that would lead anywhere. He should get in touch with Hermione and see if she could make any more improvements to her Pensieve enchantments and make the damn thing more… directable. They needed a way to further control what memories the thing projected. Still those kinds of enchantments were way over his head, for all he knew this was as far as the improvements could go. If only -

The soft ding of the elevator let him know he had reached the lobby, causing him to snap back to attention. He headed out into the central chamber towards another set of elevators that would take him back to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Although the turnstiles separated Harry from the vast Atrium where he had witnessed Tom and Dumbledore's epic battle so many years ago, the crowd was still much thicker than upstairs. Even so he barely paid attention to the people around him as he walked along. Maybe if he got Hermione to try and explain the runework again…

"Yo Harry, over here mate!"

Recognising his friend's voice Harry looked out over the crowd. Sure enough he saw the bright red top of hair amongst the milling witches and wizards as Ron walked over to him. He wore the same Auror robes Harry was wearing, but in a much looser and scruffy looking manner that made them look like casual robes. He stopped as he reached Harry.

"Anything new from old Marcus?" he asked.

"Just the usual sit rep. Any word on the Alistair kid?"

Ron shook his head. "I've been talking to Donahue like you said. He still owes us for that rune trafficking botch up with the Haitian Ministry. He confirmed that an Alistair Lockheed started working there a few weeks ago but he won't tell me which department or set up a meeting without proper cause. He said the best he could do was pass on the message that we were looking to talk to him."

It wasn't everything they had hoped for, but nothing was guaranteed when dealing with the Department of Mysteries. Still, it was a start at least.

"Alright, that'll have to do for now."

"Yeah I figured as much." Ron checked his watch, "Hey I've still got twenty minutes left on my break. How about you?"

Harry checked his own, "The meeting with the Minister wasn't as long as I thought it would be, I've still got a bit of time before I need to get back to the office."

"Sweet! You fancy grabbing some lunch then? I'm starving." Ron patted his stomach and grimaced. It was reassuring how some things never seemed to change, and Harry was supposed to be taking better care of himself. Plus it wasn't like there was a whole lot they could get done in the office at the moment,

He nodded, making Ron grin like a kid who had been told he could have dinner at Honeydukes, "Yeah why not? But you're buying."

"Fair enough. I know a great Turkish place just round the corner. We can catch th-"

An ear splitting scream cut through the air, making everyone stop in place. Everyone's head turned toward the Atrium where it had come from as people craned their necks looking for the source of the commotion. The scream was joined by several others, and the stunned silence of the crowd shifted to a mad shuffle as some people tried to get away from the disturbance whilst others, noticeably the younger ones, headed towards it trying to see what was going on.

Harry and Ron had taken off as soon as they heard the first scream. They ran at full pace towards the Atrium with their wands in their hands. By the time the other screams joined the first they had leapt over the turnstiles and were pushing past the crowd of people who were trying to get away. Unfortunately, years of fighting for his life at a young age made this kind of action no easier for Harry, and his heart was hammering in his throat as he pushed past. What could it be now?

As he and Ron broke free of the crowd they saw what had set people off. Standing in the centre of the Atrium, surrounded by a rapidly expanded circle of terrified onlookers were seven tall black robed figures in pale white masks. Purifiers.

They all stood in a straight line. Their wands were in their hands, each held casually at their sides and pointing at the floor. Harry already had his wand held out, looking for any sign of sudden movements. Other security staff had appeared on the scene, and slowly the circle surrounding the Purifiers was made up of more and more Aurors, each spaced out from the other to avoid making an easier target. Shield charms were cast around them. The Purifiers did not move. They just stood there motionless as they were surrounded. Was this some kind of trap?

Harry heard Ron's low voice over his shoulder, "You think they're here to surrender?"

Harry didn't respond. He kept his eyes trained on the hands of the Purifiers. They needed to buy some time as the civilians were cleared from the area before things got hairy. Still that didn't seem to be a problem. The Purifiers just stood there idly as the Atrium was hastily emptied of non essential personnel. But there were a lot of people to move…

"Nobody do anything stupid!" Harry called out. The message was to both the Purifiers and his own men. The last thing he needed was for some nervous rookie to fire off a hex and turn this into a bloodbath. Still, Harry didn't let his guard down for a second. He had fought enough of these sick bastards to know not to give them an inch.

Apparently satisfied that they had raised enough attention. The Purifier in the centre stepped forward, leaving three on either side of him. Harry could feel the wizards around him tense, but nobody moved.

Slowly, carefully, the centre Purifier raised his free hand up and grasped his mask. With a pull the mask came away, revealing a face Harry knew all too well. A chorus of whispers broke out among the crowd that had yet to be moved.

"I bloody knew it." Ron muttered quietly beside him.

Lucius Malfoy let the mask drop to the floor. The years had not been kind to the former Death Eater, and it showed on the elder Malfoy's face. His once immaculate, clean shaven face was now crossed with lines and creases making him look far older than he was. His hair was slightly wild and unkempt and he looked like he had missed a few more meals than he should have. Overall, the once second hand to Voldemort looked more like a tired old man than a deadly killer.

"Drop your wands!" Harry yelled, getting no response from the Purifiers.

Lucius' face was expressionless. He looked over the gathered Aurors before locking eyes with Harry. Harry thought he saw the ghost of a smirk cross the man's face, but he couldn't be sure. He felt his grip on his wand tighten.

They had always suspected the elder Malfoy of being involved with the Purifier movement. Despite the man's obvious connections and sympathies, he had always maintained he was a reformed man. Any investigations (and there were more than a few) into the man turned up nothing, even when he was questioned under Veritaserum, and he always had an airtight alibi whenever an incident occurred. The fact Harry had been right about him all this time but he had remained free made his blood run hot.

At some unseen signal, the six Purifiers behind him all followed suit and removed their own masks and let them drop to the floor. Harry recognised a few of their faces, some were suspected Purifiers, others were confirmed. What was this, was it really some kind of surrender? Huh, maybe for once things could be simple.

As one, each of the six Purifiers behind Lucius raised their wands to their chins.

"REDUCTO!"

The sound of the six shouted voices echoed through the hallway as their heads exploded in a shower of blood. Harry's heart stopped as their bodies dropped to the floor. Then the screaming started.

Harry had been an Auror for over fifteen years, and in that time he had seen some horrible things. He thought he had become acclimatised to the ugly side of the wizarding world, but the shock of seeing six men blow their own brains out in the middle of the Atrium was not something he was prepared for. He nearly dropped his wand in the surprise, and then gripped it so tightly he thought it was going to snap. He still managed to keep it locked on Lucius, who hadn't so much as twitched.

The remnants of the crowd had erupted into panic as people who had been orderly evacuating now made a mad scramble for any cover they could find. Bits of skull and brain matter showered around them. The circle of Aurors surrounding the Purifiers had faltered slightly. Harry could hear the sound of one man being sick.

"Steady, you wimps!" Ron bellowed out in a fierce roar. "Keep your wands trained on Malfoy!"

Lucius didn't react to the explosion of activity around him. He simply waited calmly for the noise to die down. In the whole time his eyes never left Harry's.

"Harry Potter," he said once the noise of the panic had faded to a level where they could hear each other. "I believe you had been looking for these men."

Harry stepped forward. His wand still held out in front of him, ready for anything. "What have you done Lucius?"

Lucius let out a burst of laughter. Harry had not expected that. This whole situation seemed so unreal. But more than that, something about the pale haired old man just seemed… _off_. His voice wasn't its usual cultured drawl. Nor did he wear his trademark condescending sneer. Instead his face was calm, relaxed, and somehow unnerving. Even his laugh had no trace of humour. His voice was different. It carried an edge to it that Harry couldn't place, like something out of a half remembered dream.

"Lucius?" he asked, "No Mr Potter, Master Malfoy is not here. He's somewhere in the back," he gave his head a slight tap, "You should hear him screaming though. He doesn't much like what's happening." He placed his hand on his chest like a man making a heartfelt proclamation, "No, I just wanted to have a talk with you, and this seemed like the best way to do it."

"What is this, the Imperius curse?" Harry asked, unnerved by the uncharacteristic behaviour of the man claiming to not be Lucius Malfoy. It was Lucius' face, his voice, but everything about him was different and…_wrong_.

"The Imperius curse? No no nothing so crude as that."

Harry narrowed is eyes at the man. So it _was _some kind of remote control? True, Lucius showed so signs of Imperius, such as vacant stares and reduced motor function. No muscle twitches to indicate an Aicherus curse. What else could have done this?

"Honestly Harry I'm surprised this is taking you so long," not-Lucius said with a smile, "After all, the same thing happened to you once upon a time. In fact, if the stories are true I believe it was in this very hall."

No, surely that was impossible. That could only mean one thing.

Possession.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, managing to keep his voice steady. As far as he knew Tom Riddle was the only wizard who was ever capable of possessing someone else.

Lucius broke into a smile that did not fit his face at all. It was a predatory smile, the smile of a man who knows something you don't, and has no intention of telling. "I'm what you have been fearing these last few weeks Harry Potter. What you have been desperately hoping would not exist."

He gestured both his arms out and if displaying the grand hall around him to a buyer, "I am the one who reduced the great pretender Rosier to a whimpering heap. The one who did what you could not and wiped the Purifiers from the face of Britain."

He lowered his gaze to lock eyes with Harry, uncaring of the wand Harry was aiming at his face. He looked at him for a moment, cold grey eyes on green. When he spoke again his voice was low and even, "I am Lord Noctis. And I think it's time we had a talk."


	3. Chapter 3: Lord Noctis

"I am Lord Noctis. And I think it's time we had a talk."

The words echoed around the Atrium. The vast room had fallen deathly silent while the man calling himself Lord Noctis spoke. It hung in the air as the amassed onlookers stared in numb disbelief. Harry kept his gaze locked on the face of the last known living Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy; reinforcing his Occlumency barriers by habit as he did. The man just stared back at him in expectation as the silence stretched on.

This was everything Harry had been dreading. A new Dark Lord, a great new threat to the people of the Wizarding World. After so many years of trying to keep something like this from happening, it seemed that he had lost that struggle. Harry was at a loss for words, and it didn't look like he was alone in that. No one seemed to know what to say.

The weary tone of Ron's voice broke through the air. "Ahh, goddamit…"

Harry swallowed to clear his throat, fighting to keep the fear from showing on his face. This was serious. The Purifiers had been a threat sure, but none of them had the skill or the power to take up the mantle left vacant when Harry had beaten Tom Riddle, or Lord Voldemort, all those years ago.

Here was a wizard taking on the tile of a Dark Lord, a title of fear and power recognised in every country across the wizarding world. Only those with the power to back up their claim would dare to call themselves so, as the title made them a target for both regular wizarding kind and other power hungry Dark Lords worldwide. It set them up on a grand stage on which they declared war on the rest of the world. By the Ministry's latest intelligence there were less than a half dozen witches and wizards identifying themselves as a Dark Lord active today. And looking across at the man standing in a still expanding pool of blood before him, Harry got the distinct impression this was no pretender.

No, here was a wizard who could apparently possess people, and had just executed, or made to execute themselves, six people in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. This was _bad_.

"Okay," Harry said in the most official voice he could manage, "I'm here. You've just killed six people and have just made yourself Undesirable Number One. What do you want to talk about?"

Lucius' eyes never left Harry's as he spoke, "What indeed, Harry? There is a lot to discuss. How about we start with this?" He gestured to himself, "Lucius Malfoy. Death Eater, turned a new leaf, turned over again into a Purifier. Surely a man like this must have been high up on your list of suspects?"

"What's your point?" Harry said through gritted teeth.

"That's just it; you must have known this man was involved with the Purifier movement. With his history and means it would be clear as day. No doubt you led a number of investigations into him, yes? And what did you find Harry?"

"I'm still not hearing a point."

"Nothing," Noctis carried on as though Harry hadn't spoken, "You found nothing. The great Harry Potter, Head of the Auror Office, and you couldn't even root out this little serpent from under your nose. Didn't you ever stop and wonder why, Harry? Did it never seem odd to you that it was getting harder and harder to make any progress with the Purifiers? That it was getting harder to deal with the threat that was growing on your doorstep?"

"What are you getting at, that I wasn't doing my job?"

Another humourless chuckle, "No Mr. Potter, I'm sure you did your duties as best as you could. Indeed there hasn't been a more celebrated Head Auror since Arcanius Cromwell's day. But what can one man do when the seat of power he relies upon in built on a foundation of corruption?"

"Bullshit," Ron said. Harry was inclined to agree with him.

"You don't know what you're talking about. We stamped out every inch of corruption in the Ministry after Tom Riddle died." And that had been no small task given the turbulent years that followed the Second War. Harry still had the scar on his eyebrow to prove it. Repulsive creature she might have been, Umbridge had known how to throw a surprisingly solid left hook.

Noctis merely shook his head with a sad smile, "You misunderstand me. I am not talking about the blood purist taint. It's really much simpler than that. I am talking about the most basic failing our kind, gentlemen - simple greed and self interest."

He gave Harry a knowing smile, twisting the facial muscles of Lucius in a way that was deeply unnerving to look at. When he spoke his voice was soft, "You are wrong Harry, I'm afraid I do know what I am talking about. In fact I know far more than you could imagine."

He held out his free hand like a teacher giving a lecture on transfiguration basics, "Anthony White, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, obtained his post through promises of returned favours. Trevor Marshall, Undersecretary to the Minister, took bribes to pass on select information to eager ears. Leanne Corewood, Analyst within the Communication Overwatch, destroyed incriminating information before it could be passed on to other departments." He shook his head with a sad smile, "Within your own department your own men sold out their colleagues for reasons pettier than the last. Downey, Augustus, Williams…" As he spoke he nodded in indication to a number of Aurors within the circle around him, "The list goes on Mr. Potter, in every section of every Department those you place your faith in let you down time and time again."

Harry kept his face impassive but his head swam with the implications this stranger had casually laid out at his feet. He knew most of those people. Augustus had been over at his house for dinner for Merlin's sake. Could it be possible; that there was corruption so deep in the Ministry after everything they had struggled against over the years? Harry didn't want to believe that, he wanted to simply write it off as the malicious accusation of a dark wizard.

But he had been chasing down the Purifiers for nearly half a decade and what did he have to show for it? A whole lot of innocent blood on his hands and his son lying comatose in a bed.

Something must have shown on Harry's face, because Noctis kept on speaking, "Is it really such a shock Mr. Potter? You place the power of your nation on the backs of fools and incompetents," he waved his hand dismissively at the crowds of onlookers that had yet to be moved. Dammit, how long did it take to evacuate some civilians for the hall?

"You people don't know how to govern yourselves any better than a pack of dogs… Democracy?" he scoffed, "The masses choose between the better of half wits and sycophants; men and women who lie and trick to gain enough support to place themselves onstage and see who can put on the best show. And through it all, within the halls of the Ministry you fight and scramble in a mad political struggle for advancement and power. Is it such a wonder your government is so rotten when time after time you insist on being led by the least among you?"

"Let me guess," Harry cut him off, seeing what was coming. "That would be where you come in,"

Noctis turned his attention back to Harry, "Centuries of turmoil. War, poverty, disease and division. This is what Britain has gone through on the backs of lesser men. History does not remember these sad little men, it remembers the great leaders. And why would they not? Godric Gryffindor himself rose to power leaving countless corpses in his wake, and he was the greatest leader this country has seen in centuries!"

"You think you're some kind of hero?" Harry asked in disgust. He stabbed his wand at the six Purifiers lying dead behind Noctis. "Is that what you call heroics, forcing people to blow their brains out?!"

Noctis looked behind at the bodies behind him for the first time. He glanced over them with interest. "They did make quite a mess didn't they? I was considering having them use Avada Kedavra but it just doesn't have quite the same impact." He looked back at Harry, "I did not say this country needed a hero, only a strong hand to guide it."

"So that's your plan then, take the country over by force?" Harry asked, forcing a smile on his face that he did not feel, "I don't know if you noticed but things didn't go too well for the last person to try that out." He had to look confident, to show no fear. That was the way an Auror had to deal with people like this; show them you are the one in control.

"Oh no, I noticed," Noctis said, once again in a tone of voice sounding strange coming from Lucius' mouth, "Indeed, I know the last moments of Rosier's reach for power quite intimately." And once again that unnerving smile - knowing what you don't and having no intention of sharing. Harry felt his hairs stand on end despite himself. This man had been there, in the Great Hall the night Albus had been…

"But you were talking about Voldemort weren't you?" Noctis continued, still smiling, "Yes, you defeated Lord Voldemort - a great victory, some would say. The most feared wizard in generations fell dead at your feet. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived," his mouth twitched as if he found something funny about that, and Harry felt illogically insecure all of a sudden.

"But I know your story Harry, and I don't see a great and powerful wizard standing before me. I see no honed skill or great knowledge or raw power," he wasn't smiling now. His face, Lucius' face, was dreadfully calm as his eyes bored into Harry's.

"The sad truth is you cannot stop me Mr. Potter, just as you could not save your government from its own greed and cowardice. You're just a man - a boy who got lucky, who defeated a terrible wizard through circumstance and trickery. You are no saviour Harry Potter, no great leader of men," his voice had gotten quiet, like it was just the two of them in that vast Atrium.

"You are no hero; what you are is weak. You could not save this country from the Purifiers," now his voice was barely above a whisper, "Any more than you could save your son."

"STUPEFY!"

It took Harry a second to recognise the voice as his own, it sounded so vicious, so full of rage. Fury coursed through him and seemed to leap out of his wand in a bolt of red light so bright it lit up the hall. It shot towards Noctis and exploded in a burst of crimson.

The world around him snapped into focus like he had come out of a tunnel. He had completely forgotten about the people in the Atrium, he had been so focused on Noctis' words, his blood boiling higher with every sentence. He had completely forgotten Ron at his back, shouting pacifying orders to the jumpy men on each side of them. He had completely forgotten to keep control. This Noctis had seemed to know exactly what to say to get under his skin.

The blinding red light faded as quickly as it had arrived and Harry re-aimed his wand where Noctis was standing. Still standing?

Noctis was standing in the same spot, in the same position, as if nothing had happened. Only his free hand had moved. It was now held out in front of him with his palm faced outwards, like he was signalling something to stop.

"Bloody hell," Harry heard Ron mutter, "That was a Protego."

Wandless magic, at that speed, and while he possessed another body. Harry's mental assessment of this Noctis was getting worse and worse by the minute. Looking over he saw that terrible smile back on his face.

"Oh dear," he said affably, "It seems I've said something to upset you."

Harry just gritted his teeth and raised his wand, ready to cast again if Noctis so much as blinked in a threatening manner.

"I guess I have outstayed my welcome. I came only to deliver you a message, and then I will take my leave." Once again Harry found himself under that cold gaze, "I _will_ be taking power. You can stop this no more than you can stop the coming night."

There was no smile this time; his face was deadly serious, "Do not stand in my way Harry Potter. This is not a fight you can win."

He looked away and regarded the crowd of Aurors and civilians around him. Their eyes were frozen in morbid fascination, like they were witnessing a car crash. Or an execution.

"A darkness is coming!" He called out to them, making the Aurors bristle and the onlookers flinch. "It will wash over this decaying country and eradicate the weakness that you have suffered blindly under. And after it had passed a new dawn will come, bringing with it a new day; a day better than before. This is my promise to you!" He gave a small, almost humble bow and turned away from the crowd. It seemed he was leaving. No one seemed to know what to do; you couldn't exactly arrest a man when he was possessing another.

But Harry still had one more question.

It seemed for a moment that he couldn't make the words come out; like they had choked inside his throat he found it so hard to say. But he managed to strangle the words out somehow.

"_What did you do to my son?_"

His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears, choked with rage and a deeper, stronger tone of fear. He had said it so quietly he was sure Noctis must have missed it, but the man looked back at him. For the briefest moment they stared at each other. On Noctis' face there was a new expression, one Harry could not read. Then Noctis raised his palm out again, and the moment passed leaving Harry without an answer.

His Protego flared back into life. Something was different with it this time though, Harry could make out a slight golden sheen to it, causing him to scowl. A _Protego Maximus,_ that couldn't be good. For the first time since he had arrived, Noctis' wand arm began to rise.

In response the Aurors around them suddenly seemed to come to. There was a shuffle of movement, and the sound of several voices.

"He's making a move…"

"What's he…"

But Harry suddenly knew, in an awful wave of certainty, what was about to happen.

"STUNNERS!" He barked, and in an instant response the great room flared into red light, showering the figure of Lucius Malfoy and blocking him from sight. Meanwhile Harry and Ron fired continuous shield breaker hexes at it, trying to wear it down enough for a stunner to break through. Anything stronger and they risked killing Malfoy. And they needed him alive.

"I will find you!" Harry roared at the covered figure in the midst of all the light. His voice echoed over the other Aurors. He knew he didn't have much time. "I will find you and I will make you pay for this!For what you did to my son!"

No answer came. There were dozens of stunning spells wearing down on Noctis' shield, but they were too late, far too late. Amongst the clamour of 'Stupefy's the voice of Lucius Malfoy could be heard.

"DIFFINDO!"

The Protego fell away as Lucius' body collapsed on the floor.

Harry let his wand drop and watched numbly as the blood pooled around him and mixed with the other Purifiers on the cold marble floor.

And so died the last Death Eater.

For the longest time Harry had thought the moment would bring with it a sense of peace, of finality. But it did not feel that way to Harry now, as he gazed over the seven corpses littering the Atrium. Seven puppets that had been used up and cast aside by some unknown and uncaring madman. Seven destroyed lives that were undoubtedly not the last.

No. It did not feel that way at all.

XXXXX

Albus ate his breakfast without much enthusiasm and ignored the students chattering around him. The Great Hall was buzzing with morning activity. A few seats over Albus was blankly aware of James arguing with one of his friends and being the centre of attention as usual. But Albus himself was in no mood to be sociable; all he wanted was a nice stress free breakfast. No fuss, no drama. He just sat at the Gryffindor table, ate his cereal and stared off into space hoping that no one would bother him today. But Albus had never been particularly lucky.

"Morning!"

Amy sat down across from him with her usual cheerful air, pointedly ignoring his obvious desire to eat in peace. They had been at Hogwarts for three years now, and Albus had yet to see anyone match the girls' relentlessly cheery attitude, it was like she almost did it to be vindictive.

"Mm," he mumbled back without looking up.

She grabbed an orange from the serving plate and began peeling it, "Ooh, so it's grunting today, we must be in a great mood this morning."

Albus stubbornly grunted in reply and kept eating his cereal.

"C'mon Albus," she persisted, "I know it's a Monday but that doesn't give you an excuse to try bring the rest of us down. Just think, double Potions after breakfast then you can doze back off in History of Magic!" She gave him a wide smile as if that settled matters and went back to her breakfast. Her blonde hair, so pale it was pretty much white, was so bright under the day's morning sun it was almost painful to look at, so Albus resolved to stare at the table in front of him.

"I think it's more got something to do with his duel with Scorpius tonight," he heard Keegan mumble sleepily beside him as the boy sat down rubbing his eyes. He had only made a half hearted effort to dress himself today. Half the buttons on his shirt weren't done up and his tie was hanging around his shoulders. His messy brown hair was sticking up at several odd angles from where he had slept on it.

Amy was frozen with an orange slice held in front of her open mouth, evidently taking a moment to process what Keegan said. "What?" she asked after a second. Her eyes darted back and forth from Keegan's face to Albus'. Keegan wasn't paying attention, spearing three sausages onto his fork at once while Albus redoubled his efforts to avoid her gaze.

"You're kidding right?" she asked. Getting no response from Keegan she turned to Albus, her face growing darker by the second. "Right?" God help him but Albus swore sometimes it was like the girl only had two moods, sickeningly cheerful and frighteningly angry.

"S'not a big deal," Albus said. It wasn't, really. It most certainly was not the reason he so desperately wanted to eat breakfast alone this morning. Just a little peace, no drama…

"Not a big _deal_," Amy hissed, her eyes narrowing dangerously, "What. _Happened._"

"'Was pretty sweet actually," Keegan said around a mouthful of food. As per usual he was completely unaware of the escalating sense of danger at the table. He had yet to remove the skewered sausages from his fork and was taking bites out of them between sentences.

"After the match last night Al got into it with Malfoy… there was the usual name calling, family insulting... then they almost scrapped again in the corridor, which was awesome by the way…in the end Al called Malfoy the son of a Death Eater, and Malfoy challenged Al to a duel at midnight tonight." He looked sidelong at Albus, grinning like he'd done him a favour. He either didn't notice the betrayed look Albus was giving him or he just didn't care.

"And you _accepted_?" Amy said, looking positively murderous by this point. She had been trying to dissuade Albus' hostility with Scorpius since first year. But Albus couldn't help it, the snivelling runt just knew how to push his buttons.

Albus looked up and had to stop himself from flinching under her glare, "Yes?"

Dammit, he hadn't meant that to sound like a question. He gulped to clear his throat. "Look, what was I supposed to do, just refuse?"

"_Yes you were supposed to refuse!"_ she snapped back, startling a pair of girls sitting next to her at the table. "I don't understand why you keep letting him get to you Albus! All you do is get yourself into trouble! Just last week you got detention from Professor Howl for trying to sabotage Scorpius' work in Charms!"

In fairness, she had a point. Ever since their first week Albus had been at odds with Malfoy. Their dislike with each other had been mutual from the start. Everything about the boy just made him angry, from his confident sneer to his pompous attitude and his continuous berating. It seemed as if they had always been destined to be at each others throats. He'd drawn quite a bit of trouble over the feud, from both other Slytherins and from teachers who caught them going at each other. But he wasn't about to stand down now, not after Malfoy had called him out like that.

"_What's the matter Potter? Afraid to fight without your father or brother there to save you? Looks like not all the Potters are such __**mighty**__ heroes after all!"_

"C'mon Ames," Keegan said leaning over the table to grab a jug of orange juice, almost knocking it over onto a pair of sixth years. "The git had it coming. He's been a dick to Al since the first day."

"And Albus has been entirely innocent in all this?" she asked sarcastically, looking at the both of them. That was a bit unfair really.

Well, perhaps the Soprano Screamers in his dinner last October had been a bit much…

"Hey, Malfoy's the one who drew first blood. Besides, its about time someone finally but the boots to that blonde little twerp's –"

"That blonde little twerp's what, Mr. Pembroke?"

Albus couldn't see who was standing behind him and Keegan, but he recognised the voice easy enough. Oh crap.

"Um, to his feet so that he doesn't get cold, Professor Longbottom?" Keegan said with a grimace as he and Albus slowly turned around. Professor Longbottom, Head of Gryffindor was standing over them with a terrifyingly polite smile on his face.

"How commendable of you to look after the wellbeing of your classmates Mr. Pembroke. And would you mind telling me what horrible ordeal you went through this morning that prevented you from getting properly dressed before coming down for breakfast?"

Keegan looked thoughtful for a second. "Um, it was seven o'clock on a Monday Professor?"

"How dreadful that must have been for you. You just _have_ to tell me all about it this afternoon in detention." Still that genial smile.

"Wouldn't miss it Professor."

"Good lad. Now run upstairs and get yourself cleaned up before you embarrass your house any further and I'll have to take _another _five points from Gryffindor. There's a good chap."

He lifted Keegan out of his chair and set him off towards the main doors, where Keegan broke into a run. Just before he reached the door he tripped over his own feet and nearly fell flat on his face. Luckily he was able to stop just in time by grabbing onto a squawking first year to steady himself. As he ran round the corner and out of sight Professor Longbottom turned back and nodded to Amy and Albus.

"Ms. Adler, Mr. Potter. I trust you're up to date with your Bandersnatch Shrub cultivation essays due tomorrow."

Albus nodded enthusiastically, "Absolutely sir."

"Just finishing it up after lunch, Professor," Amy said behind him.

Professor Longbottom grinned down at them, "Good to hear it. Enjoy your breakfasts." And with that he turned and walked back to the teacher's table. If Albus didn't know better he would have thought the Professor's shoulders were shaking, almost as if he was trying not to laugh…

Around them the sounds of conversation started back up as students eased up once a teacher had left earshot.

Albus turned to Amy with a smile, looking to share a laugh at their carefree friend's misfortune. However, when he looked back he saw she was looking at him with a frown on her face. The look was so at odds with her usual demeanour that he automatically felt guilty.

"What?" he asked, suddenly frowning himself.

"You're not really going to duel Scorpius tonight are you?"

Albus sighed. "Yes I'm gonna duel Scorpius. C'mon Amy I don't understand why you're so bothered about this. I mean, Keegan doesn't care."

"Keegan doesn't care about anything," she said rolling her eyes, "Albus, this feud you've had with Malfoy has slowly been getting out of hand for a while now. It's only a matter of time before someone gets seriously hurt."

"It's gonna be fine. Look I'm just –"

"_You're not even listening to me!_" she hissed at him. She looked visibly upset now and Albus felt his insides twist further. "I mean, have you even asked yourself _why_ you hate him so much."

"Yeah 'cos he's a spoiled, arrogant –"

"I mean _really, seriously _asked yourself. Ever since first year it's like you've had a vendetta against him. And from what I can see there's no real reason for it, it's like you're making a determined effort to hate him." She looked him directly in the eyes, "As long as I've known you you've gone out of your way to avoid any kind of conflict unless it involved Malfoy. So why are you doing this Albus?"

He found himself caught out for a moment. He reached for an immediate answer but to his surprise none came.

Sure he didn't like Scorpius' attitude, but there were other kids in their classes who were worse; and he never paid them much mind. Amy was right; he never liked confrontation, ever since he was little. But his natural cowardice didn't seem to apply to the uppity Slytherin. Sure he resented Scorpius for all the jabs at Albus and his friends and family, but hadn't Albus done the same back to him?

It seemed as if Albus should have a good, defendable reason for why he had such a problem with him, but for the life of him it wouldn't come to him. He looked up to see Amy watching him intently with her wide brown eyes and floundered about for something to say.

"Look, Amy I -"

Before he could get another word out someone dropped down in Keegan's vacated seat and rested their arm on Albus's shoulder.

"Yo Al," James said, "I hear tell that you've got yourself a little bit of a duel coming up tonight."

"Um, right," Albus responded, suddenly finding it awkward to talk about his duel under Amy's scrutinizing gaze. She didn't even look up at James when he shot her a brief 'good morning'.

James seemed to not notice. He gripped Albus' shoulders and gave them a fierce shake. "My little brother," he said with no small amount of pride as Albus's head rocked back and forth, "Fighting in a duel to defend our family honour. And against a Malfoy no less!" He clasped his fist to his heart and gave an over exaggerated sigh of emotion. "So proud… so proud."

He thankfully stopped shaking Albus, who looked up at Amy only to find her seat empty. Looking down the table he saw her walking away towards the main door. He half stood up; wanting to call out to stop her but for the life of him he couldn't think of something to say.

Instead he just slumped down in his seat while James, who hadn't seemed to notice a thing, kept talking.

"Now we don't have a lot of time so I can only give you a rundown of the basics. First of all you'll want to keep on your toes. Make sure you give your opponent a moving target. You stand still and you're just a big bull's eye. Second, don't be too proud to ignore an obvious advantage, if he's standing legs wide apart and you've got an opening you give him a swift kick in the happysacks - 'works a treat, trust me. Thirdly…"

Albus just nodded dumbly and returned to staring at the table in front of him. He tried to get Amy's words out of his head but something about them seemed to bug him. She was worried about him again, and she seemed to have touched on something important. But he was in the right, surely?

James continued to drill Albus with half heard instructions and advice while Albus let his head drop down onto the table. Just a nice, stress free breakfast...

He barely heard James' voice as he tried to get the upset look on Amy's face out his head. No fuss, no drama. Just a nice, stress free breakfast. Was that really too much too ask for?

XXXXX

James leant against the doorway to Albus' room as the mist gradually receded. He had only caught some of the memory, but looking at the fading image of his younger self as he detailed the tactical merits of spitting in your opponent's eye made him smile despite himself. As far they could tell, there was no pattern to the events that the Pensieve projected, but if nothing else it was good to look back at happier times.

But God he hated seeing him like this.

"Don't worry Al," he said softly, "We're gonna find a way to help you."

James had broken a few promises in his life, but this was one he intended to keep. There had to be some cure, some remedy that could undo this. Now all they had to do was find it, no matter what they had to do.

No longer able to bear seeing Albus the way he was, James turned and headed out the room. He turned down the stairs and into the living room where across from the fire, sitting snugly in a plush armchair was Lily. Her long red hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she was writing away on a letter nestled in her lap, probably to Rose. The girls had always been so close growing up, spending all their free time together. They were both the top students in their respective years, and despite being a year apart and being cousins it was not uncommon for the two to be mistaken for sisters.

"Anything new?" she asked without looking up.

"Nah, just some memories from third year," James said. As per their father's orders, someone had to check in on Albus every hour. The Pensieve only showed something about twice a day, the rest of the time it would sit there like any other Pensieve. Even so it was better than nothing, and James was sick with doing nothing.

Lily grunted in reply and kept on writing. She always put up a tough front but James knew his little sister well enough to recognise how much talking about Albus upset her.

And he had an idea why; James had heard from Hugo, who had heard it from Rose, that Lily and Albus had had some kind of fight just before the Purifier attack on the school. Rose hadn't given much detail, but Lily had said some pretty harsh words to Albus. That had been the last time they had spoken, and James was sure it was eating her up inside.

"But I'm sure we're onto something with yesterday's memory," he continued, trying to reassure her, "I mean, we got something from the night of the attack before, what's to say we won't get something else?"

Lily looked up at him for a second. She had a look on her face as if she wanted to ask him something, but in an instant it was gone. She just nodded and went back to her letter.

"You'll see," James called back over his shoulder as he headed towards the fridge, "Al will be back on his feet in no time to bug us all once again." He grabbed a carton of orange juice and popped off the lid.

"Lily! James!"

His father's voice. James span around and saw the silver form of a stag that he recognised as his dad's Patronus standing in the middle of the living room. Lily had jumped up in surprise, scattering the contents of her letter over the floor.

"Stay at home, both of you!" Harry's voice echoed out from the silver figure, "Your mother will be home soon, she'll explain everything. For now just listen to me. Stay. At. Home!"

Just as quickly as it had arrived the Patronus vanished, as if it had never been there at all. Lily stared wide eyed at the spot where it had been for a moment, before turning to look at James.

"See?" he said with a weak grin on his face, "We're making progress."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Author's notes:**

**Just in case anyone's wondering, Harry doesn't consider Draco a Death Eater, meaning, to him, Lucius was the last one remaining. That's a matter of his perspective, I'm not saying everyone else thinks the same way. Hopefully that didn't bug anyone.**

**Oh, and I hope this goes without saying, but a character's views don't reflect my own. Just want to make sure we've got that cleared out the way.**

**So what do people think of the villain so far? I've written out some of the later stuff and I'm really looking forward to getting it out there. I find that the Hogwarts stuff and chapters with evil characters are the two easiest things to write. Not necessarily in that order.**

**And as I'm sure you've worked out by now, Albus' story is gonna be non-linear. The benefits of having him the way he is is that I get to jump around and tell his story by crossing different points in his life. It might be a bit odd but trust me in that there is a reason for it and it isn't random. This is actually important to the plot and will be made clearer as the story progresses.**

**Anyway I hope it was a good read. If not, tell me and once I get over weeping hysterically in my bathtub I'll try and do better.**

**Thanks for reading. You are awesome.**


	4. Chapter 4: A Visit To Takeda Manor

"You don't have to do this you know."

Harry looked up from where he had been staring at his desk. He glanced at Ron, who was leaning against the wall next to his office door.

"I'm serious mate," he continued, "You look like you didn't sleep a wink last night, and there's any number of subordinates you could fob this off to."

Harry shook his head; partly to show his disagreement, partly to clear the cobwebs in his skull. It was true, he was exhausted. With debriefings, meetings and situational reports he had only gotten home around three in the morning last night.

The Wizarding World had exploded with the news of this Lord Noctis' dramatic reveal in the centre of the Ministry of Magic, not to mention the allegations of corruption that had been levelled against the Ministry itself. Harry had been snowed under with trying to avoid the press, cobbling together an information committee on this Lord Noctis, and organising a task force to aid the hastily assembled Internal Regulation Committee. And all the while trying to clean up shop within his own department. Under Veritaserum Downey, Williams and Augustus had confessed to differing degrees of professional misconduct, as well as implementing a number of other individuals in other crimes. Harry wasn't even able to afford the luxury of dwelling over the betrayal of those he had placed his trust in, because he was just too damn busy trying to cope with the nightmare that was dealing with the problem of a new Dark Lord in Britain.

To an outside observer, Harry was sure the Ministry looked like a beehive that someone had taken a bat to. Trying to cobble together a working unit to deal with the situation of Noctis in the midst of it all was currently nigh-on impossible. His only option was to try and soldier through and wait for the water to clear enough for him to get something done.

"You get _any_ sleep last night?"

Another shake of the head, for the same reasons, "Only a few hours. James woke me up this morning, demanding to know what happened."

Ron let out a low chuckle, "I suppose he's desperate to be kept in the know." He tapped his cheek thoughtfully, "Nasty character flaw that, I wonder who he got it from?"

Harry ignored the dig and sat back in his chair, absent-mindedly leafing through the stacks of paperwork that had seemingly grown on his desk overnight.

"So what did you tell him? I mean, apart from what everyone's already heard?"

Harry carried on with the paperwork without looking up, "Just a run down of what happened yesterday. That a wizard has shown up who's calling himself the new Dark Lord. As expected he was all fire and action about the whole thing - 'lets get out there and get him' and all that. It was a nightmare to convince him stay at the house with the protective detail."

Ron snorted, "I'm not surprised. James isn't exactly a kid to sit down and do as he's told."

"Yeah well, I told him how serious this whole situation was... I think I managed to get through to him. I told him to look out for his brother and sister and we all need to be careful in the days ahead."

"No kidding," Ron sighed, "I mean we don't want to end up like Lucius."

"No, I can't imagine it's the ideal way to go."

Both Harry and Ron looked up at the new voice as a man walked into Harry's office.

"Draco," Harry said standing up. Standing in the doorway was Draco Malfoy, dressed in an elegant black coat and looking slightly paler than usual.

"You're early," spluttered Ron, slightly embarrassed at his overheard comment.

Draco pulled a silver pocket watch from his jacket and examined it briefly, "I apologise. I brought Scorpius in with me today and it seems that I overestimated the time it would take to get through security." Harry looked out the window and saw the bright blonde head of Scorpius sitting in a waiting chair outside. Draco turned to him, "Perhaps the Daily Prophet was a touch overzealous when they said the Ministry was in 'a state of total anarchy and chaos.'"

"Only by a hair, believe me," Harry replied. By Merlin he missed the days when you could just blackmail Skita into leaving the hack jobs alone. He indicated a chair in front of his desk. "Please, sit."

"Right," Ron said as he straightened up, "That's my cue to get going. World's not going to save itself." He gave Malfoy the briefest of nods, "Malfoy."

"Weasely." Draco returned the nod politely as Ron walked past him. Harry had to repress the urge to smile. While he had buried the hatchet with Draco years ago, Harry doubted Ron and Draco would ever be more than civil with each other. It seemed that some grudges just never faded with time.

Draco took the seat in front of Harry's chair and smoothed out the wrinkles in his coat as he made himself comfortable.

"Thanks for coming in," Harry said by way of breaking the ice.

"Thanks for being the one to see me," Draco replied, "I imagine you're quite busy at the moment."

"Yeah, well it didn't feel right leaving…this to somebody else."

Draco gave a humourless smile, "Lucky you."

It was standard procedure. Well, as close to a standard procedure they could get in a situation like this. The format was the same as if a witch or wizard had been revealed to be suffering under the Imperius curse, and it worked just the same for a case like this. The next of kin was brought in to answer questions pertaining to the actions and behaviour of the afflicted member in the days before.

In theory, it was supposed to help create a better picture of how the person came to be placed under someone's control. But most of the time the process failed to generate any substantial leads and so it was largely seen as a formality. As head of the Auror Office Harry wasn't exactly expected to handle such matters, but with his history with the Malfoy family he had felt it was owed.

"I'm sorry Draco, about… your father."

"Spare me the sympathies Harry," Draco said dismissively, "My father and I hadn't spoken in two years."

Harry paused for a moment. He hadn't realised things had gotten so bad between the two. "I had no idea," he said.

"It's not exactly something you bring up over lunch. We had been growing more and more estranged after Scorpius began attending Hogwarts." Another humourless smile, "He told me I was 'a traitor to our heritage and a coward'."

"I'm sorry," Harry said stupidly. What else could he say.

Draco waved him off, "Ah. The old man was wrapped up in past glories. I can't say I'm at all surprised he ended up siding with the Purifiers." He spoke with an air of cold detachment; aloof and dignified. Every bit the Head of the Malfoy family he had grown into.

Harry knew a fair bit about succession laws in the noble houses of Britain. It was amazing how much they ended up drawing the attention of the Auror division, what with the intrigue and backstabbing that went hand in hand with matters of power and wealth. As sole heir Draco had become the Head of the House of Malfoy when he was twenty five. Harry knew that Draco and his father had never seen eye to eye after the fall of Tom Riddle, but he didn't think it was so drastic.

"I never knew he was involved," Draco continued, "I told you that when you led your investigation. I always suspected him, but if I knew anything I would have told you."

"I know Draco, that's not why you're here. I wanted to ask if you knew anything about your father's… possession. But if you hadn't spoken to him in so long I guess that's a bust."

"I suppose it is… sorry." Draco ran his hand over his slicked back hair and leant back in his chair. For a moment the two sat in silence. "Possession," he breathed, "Who would have thought that would be a problem to look out for?"

"It's not a comforting thought."

With the connection between them, Tom had been able to take control of Harry's mind all those years ago. But the possession then had been a one off, and only worked between the two of them. Someone with the ability to do the same with anyone they wished? That was a nightmare. How do you fight something like that? How can you fight a war against an enemy you couldn't see or touch?

"No, it is not," Draco looked at the floor for a moment lost in thought, before his eyes snapped back up, "I meant to ask, has there been any change with Albus?"

Harry shook his head, "No, No change."

"Ah. Well I do hope he gets better soon."

Harry smiled politely at the sentiment, "Thank you, I just wish we could have an idea of what's actually wrong with him."

"Scorpius has been doing his own research into the matter. Corresponding with Amy and Keegan, I understand."

Harry was briefly reminded of his own Hogwarts' years, when he, Ron and Hermione would research whatever mysteries plagued them that year over their own holidays. It was strange how the times seemed to repeat themselves. But with everything taken into account Harry would have preferred it if they had never had to go through such troubles in the first place. He wished they could have had an ordinary childhood, and only worried about ordinary problems like girls and the Quidditch league.

"That's very kind of them. But the resources of the Ministry failed to give me an answer," he said, "And Hermione's still on the case. I'm not sure what they'll be able to do."

"My thoughts exactly, but it makes them feel better I suppose. Nobody enjoys sitting idly by while terrible things are happening to those they care about."

"I suppose not." Harry knew the feeling all too well himself.

"A new Dark Lord," Draco sighed, "Possession. Corruption. And now it's our children who lie in the hospital beds." He turned and looked out through the glass, where the hustle of the Auror Department, noticeably more frantic and chaotic than usual, could be seen. The sound was muffled by the door and window, but the low sound of raised voices and bustling workers could still be heard.

He scoffed lightly to himself. "May you live in interesting times," he said almost to himself as he shook his head sadly. Harry recognised the line from Muggle China. A proverb, and not a happy one either.

Harry frowned. The Ministry he had worked so hard for was tearing itself apart, rooting out the corruption that had festered under all their noses while some new madman had just declared war on the Ministry, and Harry in particular. And all this only a couple decades after the horrors of Tom Riddle's reign. All the death, the hardship, the sacrifice… and in the end it seemed that it was only to be repeated. Interesting times indeed. Harry could understand why the proverb was considered a curse.

"I guess some of us are just born lucky," he said sourly.

Draco kept staring out the window, "I suppose so."

It felt rude to have to push the man out of his office but Harry didn't exactly have a lot of free time today, and as Draco had made it clear that there was nothing to be learned regarding Lucius. He cleared his throat, causing Draco to snap back to attention.

"Well I'm sorry we had to meet like this, really I am, but I really must get back to work Draco."

"Of course, I imagine it'll be a busy day."

"Oh, I imagine it'll be an absolute nightmare."

Harry made to get up, but Draco remained sitting. "There was one more thing I wanted to ask, Harry," His voice had taken a different tone. No longer the slick, cultured aristocrat, Draco looked…troubled.

Harry sat back down, "Of course, what is it?"

Draco didn't say anything for a moment. He just sat in his chair looking like he was having some kind of internal debate. Finally he looked up and spoke, but his voice cracked slightly and he coughed. He looked off to the side, avoiding Harry's eye.

"My father," he said quietly, looking uncomfortable, "Did he… did he say anything…In the end?"

Harry sighed heavily. Beneath the detachment and the uncaring demeanour, Draco was still a man who had just lost his father. It seemed Harry was not to be the only one to be left disappointed by the meeting.

"I'm sorry Draco," Harry said for the second time. Just now realising that he only meant it this time. "But no, there was no sign of your father. There was only Noctis."

Draco ran his hand over his head and coughed again, "Of course. I just wanted to be sure…" He still didn't look at Harry. Avoiding his gaze he straightened his cufflinks and stood up. "Well, I'll let you get back to work."

He shook Harry's hand, and together they walked out of Harry's office. Scorpius jumped out of his seat and walked over to the two of them. The boy shared a marked resemblance to his father, though he had a noticeably slighter frame, giving his narrow, serious face a hawkish look. His eyes darted inquisitively around the room as he approached them.

"Hello Scorpius," Harry said warmly.

"Hello Mr. Potter," Scorpius replied in a respectful tone Harry hadn't quite managed to get the boy to knock off.

"Ginny tells me you're planning on stopping by the house this week."

"Yes sir. If that's … still ok." The boy looked about at the manic scene around them, clearly seeing that Harry would be plenty busy in the days to come.

Harry smiled, "Yes, yes I'm sure it'll be fine. You, Amy and Keegan are all welcome to stop by whenever you want."

Scorpius nodded happily, grinning in a way that made him look several years younger. "Thank you sir, I'll be sure to let them know."

Draco placed his hand on his son's back. "Well," he said politely, "We must get going. Harry has plenty of work to do, I'm sure, and we mustn't keep him. Come on Scorpius."

He nodded to Harry, "Always a pleasure, Harry."

Harry nodded back. "Till next time."

Draco turned and walked towards the exit. Scorpius smiled up at Harry again and turned to walk after his father. Watching him go Harry couldn't help but smile. Things had started out so similarly for him and Albus than they had for Harry and Draco.

It was good that the two had managed to resolve things so much better than their fathers had. He and Draco had been so at odds for pretty much their entire childhood, but Albus had managed to befriend the young Slytherin and overcome his prejudices in a way Harry had never been able to. It was that good natured sensibility that made Harry so proud of his youngest son. He returned to his office feeling a little better than he did that morning.

Leave it to the son he named after Dumbledore to be the mature one.

XXXXX

"FUCK YOURSELF MALFOY!"

Albus strained against Keegan, but his friend was bigger than he was and held him back. On the other side of the hallway Gosforth did the same with Scorpius. The blonde haired Slytherin spat across the gap dividing them as a crowd of onlookers watched in mixed expressions of shock, excitement and occasional amusement.

"COME OVER HERE AND SAY THAT!" Scorpius screamed back, his pale little face turned red with anger, "YOU'RE A COWARD, POTTER! A BLOODY COWARD!"

Albus made another attempt to get past Keegan, but was held fast. He looked across the hallway and felt his blood boil. It was only the second week after the Christmas holidays and Malfoy was already going out of his way to pick fights. Albus had hoped the pompous ass had managed to cool off over the holiday but apparently he was still sore from the detention Albus had gotten him on the last day of term. Two years they had been at Hogwarts, and it looked like nothing was going to change anytime soon.

Even if the little git was sore it didn't mean he had to ruin Albus' day. Albus began to reach for his wand, intent on shutting him up, but felt his hand get grabbed by another. He looked down and saw Amy behind him. She locked eyes and shook her head, a murderous expression on her face.

Merlin, he forgot how scary the girl could be.

Reluctantly he pulled his hand away from his robe pocket and turned back to face Scorpius.

"You know what? You're not even worth it Malfoy. After that Daily Prophet inquiry into the Purifier allegiances of your family I guess you need someway to make yourself feel like less of a scumbag." Even as he said it Albus felt horrible, but another side of him felt a sick happiness, a black rush of joy from the look on Scorpius' face. He looked stunned, like Albus had just crossed a line he hadn't been expected to.

For a moment he was frozen like that, then his face welled up with anger again and he redoubled his efforts to get past Gosforth. When that looked to be impossible, he apparently got the same idea Albus had. Unfortunately he didn't have an overprotective young witch to hold _him_ back because before Albus knew it Scorpius' wand was in his hand.

Albus made a mad grab for the inside of his robes as the crowd jumped back around them, no one wanting to take any stray fire. Keegan and Amy were too caught up in stopping Albus to get out of the way in time. He knew he was too late, but instinct directed his hand even as his face screwed up with anticipation of a curse.

He just hoped it wouldn't be anything that would put him in the hospital wing overnight this time.

"Ten points from Slytherin! Ten points from Gryffindor!"

Everyone's head turned to face the voice as the prefect came striding down the hallway. In an instant the jeering and excited murmurs had died down to complete silence. He stepped into the circle surrounding Albus and Scorpius, placing himself between the two boys. He faced each one of them in turn, peering down his nose disdainfully at them both. Lockheed, Albus had never liked him either.

"Fighting in the hall like a pair of savages," he said icily. "You should both be ashamed of yourselves." Oh Merlin, a lecture. Did he think he was a teacher or something. He glared at the pair of them a moment longer. "Get to your classes. All of you!" he spat. The crowd immediately began to disperse with students slinking away in different directions. No one else wanted to catch themselves on the receiving end of a self righteous punishing.

Albus made to follow them but Lockheed put his hand out to stop him. "And that's a detention for you Potter, for inciting a fight with a classmate."

"What!" Albus shouted before he could stop himself. Over Lockheed's shoulder he could see Scorpius beaming from ear to ear. He gave Albus a smug grin as he picked up his bag and hurried down the corridor, the smarmy little twerp.

"That's rubbish!" Keegan cried indignantly, "You're just saying that because Malfoy's a Slytherin!"

"Are you suggesting that I'm abusing my power as a prefect to favour members of my house?" Lockheed narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Do you want to lose _your_ Friday evening as well?"

"Friday?" Amy stepped around to face him, "This Friday? But that's the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw!"

"So it is," Lockheed sneered, looking down his nose at the three of them. "Well what a shame you'll have to miss it Potter. And if your friend doesn't learn not to insult his betters he can join you."

"Well that's just bulls –" Keegan stopped abruptly when Albus shot him a glare.

Lockheed gave him a dismissive look, and then turned back to Albus. "What?" He leaned forward so he was invading Albus' personal space, "You have something you want to say?"

Yes. You're a pompous arse who thinks he's better than everyone else because your family's rich. You abuse your power to make yourself feel like a big shot and you're a chicken-shit who's happy to pick on people as long as you're sure they can't do anything back.

Albus looked at his feet. "No."

And I'm a bloody coward.

Lockheed smirked and straightened up. "I thought not. Now get to classes the three of you." He straightened his expensive robes and jerked his head down the hallway. "Now!"

The three of them scampered down the corridor without looking back. They reached the end and hurried up the staircase to the first floor and the History of Magic classroom. Around them handfuls of students went to and fro, all heading to their next classes.

"What a knob that guy is eh?" Keegan asked as they headed up the steps.

"Careful Keegan, he's a prefect," Amy admonished him. She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and looked at Albus. "But yeah, it was totally unfair that he gave Albus detention and not Malfoy."

Albus didn't respond. He just climbed the steps in silence with his head lowered. He was fuming. At Lockheed for giving him detention. At Malfoy for goading him into a fight. At Albus bloody Potter for not standing up for himself. "Forget it," he grumbled.

"But Albus," Amy continued, "He was totally out of line back there. That was a complete abuse of his power as a prefect. I'm sure if you went to Professor Longbottom –"

"I said forget it, I didn't want to see the match anyway!" Albus snapped, a little harder than he meant to. Shame and disappointment burned inside his gut, making him angry. He didn't want to make any trouble with the older Slytherin or any more trouble for himself. He just wanted to drop the topic, and the feeling of shame it brought only served to make him even angrier.

"Fine then," Amy snapped back. "Just go to detention then. It's not like I care." She shot him a big fake grin, as if to gloat over the fact that her evening remained detention free and she could go see the match when he couldn't.

"Fine."

"Fine!"

Dammit, now she was mad at him. And knowing her the silent enmity between them could last for days. The whole thing was so stupid anyway. Why was it that whenever Albus was angry he could only direct it at his friends and family? Or Malfoy, he supposed.

They continued up in silence. Amy and Albus stuck in their respective huffs, neither one willing to break the silence and concede. Keegan, as usual, seemed oblivious. He gave Albus a light punch on the shoulder as they reached the top of the stairs.

"Don't worry mate, just tell your brother and he'll smash the posh git's face in." He gave a grin of his own, as if matters were settled.

"Right, 'cos that's exactly what we need," Amy droned sarcastically, "Even more trouble to come out of this."

"Just sayin'," Keegan sniffed, "It'd be good to see the look on that fancy git's face when old James sucker punches him in the nose."

Amy giggled involuntarily at that, before correcting herself and adopting a disapproving look. "C'mon Keegan, can you imagine the fallout that would come from James punching a prefect?"

"Yeah, well… Someone should, anyway."

Someone, but not Albus. Someone who actually had the stones to stand up for themselves. Someone who doesn't just stand there and take it while some jerk treats them unfairly. No, not Albus at all.

As they rounded the corner to the classroom, Albus caught sight of a set of robes before he was struck by someone running past. He span on the spot like a drunkard and just about managed to keep from falling.

"What the hell?!" He stumbled for footing, grabbing a fistful of Keegan's robe to steady himself.

He caught a glimpse of a girl running down the stairs. Her hand was covering her mouth and her face was red and scrunched up. As she ran Albus could hear heaving sobs coming from behind her hand. From the look of her she must have been in fifth or sixth year.

Amy grabbed his arm and helped him back to standing. Two more girls came running past, making Albus, Amy and Keegan hop out of the way. They rushed down the stairs after the first girl.

"Merlin… another one?" Keegan asked as they stood at the top of the stairs and watched them go. They weren't the only ones; several other students had turned to look.

"That's the third this year," Amy said darkly.

There could have been any number of reasons for the girl to be run crying down the corridor, but everybody knew what it was. It had started to become a much too frequent scene in recent days. Another Purifier killing. Another child told the news every kid dreaded to hear. Another family forever shattered in the space of a morning period.

The terror was growing day by day as more and more families were caught in the dreaded Purifier raids. The teachers did their best to keep the students from discussing it, but it was never far from people's minds. All over the school, students talked in hushed voices about the most recent news. They traded gossip and rumours and wondered morbidly who might be next. And for every talk there was always the same question. What was Harry Potter going to do about it?

They all stared grimly down the stairs in silence. Before in ones and twos students drifted away towards their respective classrooms. Amy nudged Albus' elbow and the three of them silently headed towards their room. The feelings of animosity between Albus and Amy had quickly dried up in the sober reality of the day, making their problems seem small and childish. They filed into the classroom with other students that had stopped to see what was going on.

"That poor girl," Amy said softly as they took their seats. As she spoke the ghostly Professor Binns floated through the wall and took his place at the front of the class. This period they were paired with Hufflepuff. All around them students paid little mind to the starting lesson as they whispered to each other.

"Did you see that?"

"…Another Purifier raid…"

"My dad told me there was another raid last night. Four people were killed…."

"Was that Carla Lowry from fifth year?"

"…how many is that now?"

"Yeah," Keegan murmured as he took his own seat, "I can't imagine what that must be like."

"You okay Albus?" Amy peered at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He took out his paper and quill as Binns started talking in his standard sleep inducing drawl.

"Today class we will continue our examination of the early eleventh century warlord Opeth The Unseen. Now, as we saw last week the economic development of the era allowed for a rapid expansion of…"

The truth was he wasn't fine, he was nervous. Nervous, afraid, and upset. The Purifier attacks had been getting worse since their attack on Diagon Alley, and everyone was looking to his father to do something to fix the situation. The thought of his dad out there, hunting down those terrifying masked figures, worried Albus more than he cared to admit. He knew his dad could take care of himself but he was putting himself in the line of fire of a group that everyone was afraid of. Literally. What if Albus was the next one who got that terrible news?

He looked up to see Keegan and Amy both looking at him. He must have shown some of what he was thinking, because they were both eying him carefully.

"Okay," he sighed, "I'm just a little worried about my dad is all."

"That's understandable," Keegan said, leaning back, "I mean your dad is the one who's spearheading the whole Ministry Purifier Taskforce."

"Keegan!"

"But c'mon Al," Keegan continued, ignoring Amy, "You know your father better than any of us. Do you know any wizard who could take care of himself better than Harry Potter?"

Albus gave the sentiment some thought. When Keegan put it that way things didn't seem so dire. His dad had been made Head Auror for a reason. And it wasn't like this was the first time he had placed himself in harms way; as an Auror it was part of the job. Besides, his dad had fought Voldemort when he was not much older than Albus was himself. If anyone could be trusted to look after themselves in a tight spot, it was Albus' father. Harry Potter, The Hero of the Wizarding World. Albus let his nerves settle a little.

But what would Harry Potter…

Albus puffed out his cheeks. "I wonder -"

He stopped suddenly. He hadn't really intended to speak the thought aloud. It had just crossed his mind and without thinking he had blurted it out. He stopped speaking, feeling a warm flush of embarrassment cross his cheeks. Unfortunately that only made Keegan and Amy lean in closer. All pretence of actually paying attention to Binns' class forgotten.

"…And it was from this island that Opeth led the northern territories, as we can see from page two hundred and six in the textbook. According to the account of Bumi the Mad - page two hundred and seven - the island was impossible to reach by…"

"Wonder what?" Amy asked, looking concerned. Albus tried to ignore her, staring defiantly at his textbook. But the fair haired young witch didn't look away. Both she and Keegan pressed in on each side, waiting for an answer. Goddamit, it wasn't like he could drop it at this point.

"I wonder," Albus continued, leaning closer so that no one could overhear, "I just wonder what he would have thought if he had seen me earlier." He hung his head in embarrassment. What had made him say that aloud? He was barely even aware of the thought, let alone cognisant enough of it to bring it up with the two people he cared about since he had come to this school. Maybe he just needed a little affirmation, like a castaway desperately seeking a clue to the right direction.

To his surprise, Keegan chuckled softly.

"What do you mean, what would he think?" he muttered cheerfully, "A Potter scrapping with a Malfoy in the corridor of Hogwarts? I sure he'd be overjoyed."

XXXXX

"Anything?"

James looked up as he stepped into the living room. His grandfather, Arthur Weasely, was peering at him over his copy of the Daily Prophet as he sat in one of the armchairs, his feet propped up in front of him,

"Nothing usable," he replied sourly.

He walked over to the window and leant the bandaged side of his face against it, peering outside. The sky overhead was cloudy, leaving long patches of shadow across the grass and the trees around the Potter house.

"I'm sick of this," he said with a small snarl.

"Hm?"

"This. Doing nothing. Waiting for something to happen while I'm sitting on my arse again. I'm sick of it."

It had been three days since Lord Noctis had made his grand debut, and the wizarding world was still caught in a storm of fear and frantic preparation for the worst. Most people remembered all too well how bad things had gotten when Lord Voldemort rose for the second time while they sat aside and did nothing. This time things were different. People were taking steps to prepare themselves against the rise of a new Dark Lord; setting up wards around the house, organising neighbourhood watches and the like. The fact that most of the population had seen what life was like under a homicidal madman twice probably helped.

And it seemed James' father was no different when it came to preparing for the unforeseen. Uncle Bill had been over yesterday with a crew of a half dozen wizards to redo the wards on the house. And a steady stream of family members and close friends had been stopping in to stay at the house while James' parents were away. People who also just happened to be past members of the old Order of the Phoenix James had heard so much about.

Undoubtedly they were there to watch over the family in case anything happened, but they also had another purpose that pissed James off to no end. To keep him from leaving.

Harry had returned home from work the day after Noctis appeared and sat the family down. He outlined several new rules that the family was going to have to follow until 'this whole mess was sorted out'. Being Head Auror and the Saviour of Wizarding Britain apparently made Harry - and by extension his family - a likely priority target for dark wizards in times of crisis.

The one rule that James had the most problem with was the fact that neither he nor Lily could leave the house without an escort. They could floo over to the houses of one of their many relatives, but not any others without prior approval. As far as going out for a walk or stopping down the shops for some groceries went, it was forbidden. It was like they were being imprisoned in their own house.

And that was something James had no small amount of trouble coping with.

"Look James," Arthur said from behind him, "I know it must be frustrating for you to have to stay at home, but you've got to look at this from your father's perspective. He's out there, fighting against some great invisible threat the rest of us can't even begin to understand. He can't be worried about keeping you out of danger while he's doing it." Undoubtedly he had heard about James' row with his father over that very subject.

"I'm not a kid, Pops. I can look after myself."

"I never said you couldn't, but your father has to look after his family anyway he can."

James turned around to face his grandfather. His feet were no longer up on the footstool. His paper was folded next to him. He was looking at James with a grave expression on his face.

"You're young James," he said sadly, "You don't know what it's like to lose family." His eyes glazed over for a moment and a haunted expression crossed his face. "I know that right now it seems like your dad is the villain here, but trust me one day you'll understand."

He continued to sit there, locking James in an inscrutable stare. James was feeling slightly off balance here. He was used to his grandfather being the kindly, laid back figure. Seeing him like this was a little unnerving.

He leaned back against the window and sighed heavily. "Fine, fine. I hear you. I'll stop giving my dad a hard time."

Arthur held his gaze a moment longer before sinking back into his chair, apparently satisfied. He picked up the newspaper again and settled back. James looked over at the empty mug on the table next to him.

"You want a refill?"

"Hm?" Arthur looked over the paper again. Following James's gaze he glanced at the mug next to him. "Oh yes, that'd be lovely. Thank you."

James picked up the mug and walked through to the kitchen, tapping the kettle with his wand as he passed.

"Milk and two sugars, yeah?"

"Milk and two," Arthur echoed from living room.

As he made up the tea, James frowned in frustration. It was all well and good to say that you're keeping your family safe. But that doesn't take into account how the family feels. Sure they might be safe, but safe doesn't necessarily mean okay. There was still the worry, and the guilt, and the feeling of helplessness that came with sitting on the sidelines. His father wasn't being responsible, he was being overprotective. And James didn't like the feeling of being treated like a child. Sure there was danger out there, but at least if he was out there he knew that he was able to make a difference. If there was a problem with the world, James would much rather be able to be in a position where he could do something to fix it.

He walked back into the living room with a mug of tea in each hand. He handed one to his grandfather and sat down in the chair opposite.

"Thank you James," Arthur said cordially as he took the mug. "You know, you're a lot like your father when he was your age. Always rushing off, never wanting to sit back and let others take care of things. It's good to see that you, at least, can restrain yourself when you need to. Your father didn't learn that lesson until it was too late." He raised the mug and took a gulp. "I'm sure he would be proud of you."

"Thanks," James said, looking away, "And I'm sorry."

"About what?" Arthur asked as he set the mug down smacking his lips. Then his eyes glazed over and a dreamy smile crossed his face as he gazed away at nothing.

"That," James stood up and took a sheet of paper from his pocket and set it down in his chair. He did feel guilty about slipping one of Uncle George's Bewildering Brewdrops into Arthur's tea. But there was no way in hell he was going to sit about and do nothing again.

"Sorry Pops," he said as he walked towards the fireplace, "Maybe you're right, one day I'll understand."

He picked up a handful of floo powder and flung it into the fireplace. "But not today." With that, he stepped into the green flames. "Takeda Manor!"

XXXXX

James took in the opulent entrance hall of Takeda Manor as he strode easily out the fireplace, the last traces of dizziness quickly wearing off. He had always known that his father had a lot of money, but the Potters had always lived according to a fairly modest budget. Their house was large and comfortable, reminiscent of the Burrow his grandparents lived in, but a far cry from the regal extravagance of other wealthy pureblood families. They lived in simple comfort, not luxury. It seemed that the Takeda family did not follow the same line of thought, if the room James had arrived in was any indication.

The room's elegantly carved ceiling towered over him, an ornate chandelier glistening overhead. The room seemed to have been designed to exhibit an attitude of cold superiority over visitors. The white walls were each adorned with undoubtedly priceless examples of Japanese art – intricate landscapes carved from shining ivory and jade that clashed somewhat with the distinctly European architecture of the house. The marble floor was bare except for the ebony coffee table pointlessly placed in the centre of the room. It was obviously a room designed only with the intention of receiving floo travelling visitors, as there was only one set of doors on the far side of the room.

Through these doors walked a tall Japanese man. His long dark hair was pulled back and tied behind his head, and his meticulously groomed face was pinched in a disdainful frown James recognised all too well.

"Takeda," James greeted, the name suddenly sounding awkward being that he was in the home of the Takeda family. How had he never found out the guy's name in seven years of school?

Still Takeda did not correct him, only giving him a curt bow in response and grunting, "James," in a heavy accent. He raised his hand to the door he had just walked through, "Kono yō ni."

He turned around and walked back through the doors without waiting for a response, leaving James momentarily stunned before he realised he was supposed to follow.

Well, so much for small talk.

He followed Takeda through the mansion, passing through rooms each as intimidating and extravagantly furnished as the entrance hall. Ornately kept garden rooms; magnificent halls with furniture that must have cost a fortune, all brimming with antiques and artwork proudly displaying the Takeda family heritage. Neither of them spoke as they walked, and Takeda did not so much as look back. Though James found it rude, in all honesty it suited him just fine.

Even though he had arranged to talk with Takeda, he had no intention of making a social visit. The two had never really liked each other in Hogwarts, with James not liking the Japanese boy's haughty, pretentious attitude and Takeda… well, being a stuck up git who thought James was beneath him. Still, better spending time with someone you don't like and actually getting something done than sitting at home while the world falls apart around you.

As they walked James wondered where they were going, and whether Takeda was going to stick to talking Japanese throughout his visit. James knew full well the arrogant sod could speak English fluently, and having to conduct the impromptu interview through a game of charades could make things difficult…

Takeda passed through another set of doors, bringing them into some kind of leisure room. Wide ceiling to floor windows flooded the room with what sparse light the poor weather offered, and long leather couches circled a wide table. The room was hugely different from the rest of those James had passed so far, making him guess that it was designed to entertain visitors. On the wall opposite a glittering emerald snake slithered across an enchanted dartboard, hissing menacingly; a fully stocked and jewel encrusted bar occupied one corner of the room, the shelves behind it brimming with bottles of every colour and shape; in the centre of the room was an ornate pool table, and looking up from it was non other than-

"James! How's it going you big beautiful bastard?!"

David threw down the cue he was holding, scattering the balls across the table and hopping over to the door. He was dressed in casual muggle clothes that were ripped and worn in several places and smiling ear to ear under a mop of sandy blond hair as he gripped James in a crushing embrace.

"Hey David," he replied, slapping his old housemate on the shoulder, "Not too bad." He rubbed the bandaged side of his face subconsciously, "The face should be completely healed in just over a week."

"That's good to hear," said another voice, making James jolt towards the couch. Getting up from where he had been sitting was Samuel, who was putting aside a book with a polite smile.

"Samuel!" James said surprised, having not noticed the old Ravenclaw sitting there. "Good to see you."

"And you, James." He walked over and extended his hand. He gave another bland smile, speaking in a refined, cultured tone, "It's good to see that you're recovering well."

James shook his hand, slightly amused by the formality of his old classmate. He had always found Samuel likable enough, if a bit dull. He had short black hair and a pale, angular face. The only noticeable feature about him was his dark, cold eyes which coupled with his pale skin gave him an ashen, almost colourless appearance. In all their time at Hogwarts James had never spent a whole lot of times with the guy outside of classes, what with Samuel spending most of his time in the library and James avoiding the place like the plague.

"Thanks," he murmured with another scratch of his bandages, "How about you David, how's the arm?"

"Eh," David grunted, stretching out his arm and hand out and twisting them back and forth. To James' eye it was still noticeably stiff and sluggish. "About as good as it's gonna get I suppose. It's a hell of a lot better than it was though." David gave a grin that did not reach his eyes, "Been teaching myself to do spellwork with my left hand. I've been getting better at it, but I reckon my duelling days are behind me."

"Ah," James mumbled awkwardly, "That's rough buddy."

"Tell me about it."

Samuel sat back down while James took the couch opposite. David returned to the pool table while Takeda sat in silence, having taken a seat when he entered the room without another word. James was a little off balance from the fact that David and Samuel were at the manor as well. Even though he counted David as a friend, he knew the man was closer to the others than he was with him. He floundered for something to say, suddenly feeling left out, "Wow, it's strange to see you guys together again. I wasn't expecting you two to be here." He indicated to Samuel and David.

David chuckled from the pool table as he absently lined up another shot, "Well I've not been doing a whole lot since we graduated." James could relate to that. "And when I heard Mister Bishop here got back from Europe yesterday and was crashing with this miserable bastard I thought I'd swing by and check up on them. I mean, have you seen the place? These rich cats sure know how to live."

James turned to Samuel, noticing Takeda scowling up at David out the corner of his eye, "Oh you're staying here then? How did that…" David gave a loud fake cough, a universal sign for _Don't Bring It Up_, but it was too late, "…come…about?"

Samuel glanced up at David, who had conveniently turned back to his solo game of pool, before looking back at James, "It's fine," he said with a sad smile, "I happened to have a falling out with my parents before I left for Europe. We haven't spoken much since then and I didn't relish the idea of returning home when I got back to England. Hayao kindly offered to put me up for as long as I needed."

Huh, Hayao. So that's what his first name was. How had he never known that?

Samuel indicated Takeda with his hand as he spoke, who nodded respectfully back in response. That was something James had never seen the old Slytherin do. Every time he had seen Takeda it was with a moody scowl on his face, a look of haughty disdain, or a derivative of the two. Seeing a civil side of him was just _weird_. Still, it didn't look like said civility extended to him or David. Seeing how he and James had never pretended to like each other, and how Takeda was now glaring up at David as he helped himself to drinks at the bar, examining different bottles and pouring them into one glass, it wasn't hard to understand why.

Watching the Japanese-born wizard get up and start chastising David in angry Japanese, James wondered if Takeda was actually a nice guy to people he considered himself close to, people who actually called him by his first name and not his family name. Merlin, what would that even be like? That also raised the question of why anyone would bother to put in the effort of befriending the prick.

"Chōdo sore o shita ni oku!"

"Oh, like you're really gonna miss it; c'mon don't be a tight git!"

"So James," Samuel said, watching as David and Takeda bickered behind the bar in their respective languages, "I'm surprised you're allowed to be here. What with the big scare going up about the new Dark Lord and all."

"Yeah, it's pretty crazy out there right now, isn't it?" James replied.

"Crazy?" David cried happily as he sat heavily down on the couch, his hand noticeably absent a glass of stolen liquor, "Its awesome is what it is! Just think; some new big bad threatening to destroy the country, armies of darkness to destroy, dark wizards to fight, danger, heroism, badass battles to the death, it's exciting as hell!" The former Gryffindor was positively bouncing in his seat, "I'm just glad I'm old enough to fight this time!"

"Right, and forego the misery and the lives ruined by the whims of some power crazy madman," Samuel said disdainfully, making David's face drop. Takeda walked past him and sat down in his old place looking even sourer than usual. "Have you already forgotten how things were under the Purifiers? Families torn apart, homes and businesses destroyed?" He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, as though explaining to a child, "This is no game David, I thought you would have learned that after what happened to your arm. Terror, oppression and senseless waste are what we have to look forward to in the days to come, not glory and adventure."

"You really think it could get that bad?" James asked. His mouth seemed to have gotten a lot dryer while Samuel had been speaking.

Samuel turned to look at him, "It's hard to say. No one really knows what this Lord Noctis is capable of yet. But if he turns out to be anywhere near as bad as the last Dark Lord Britain had, then… yes absolutely. If things do escalate to that point I don't think I'll actually stay in the UK for much longer."

James had not been expecting that. He had thought of Lord Noctis as another problem that his dad had to solve, like the Purifiers. The idea of leaving the country had never even occurred as an option people might be considering. How many others had already packed an emergency luggage, nervously checking the papers for the news to get worse?

"Tsh, what a buzz kill…" David grumbled.

"So you wouldn't want to try and fight then?" James pressed. If there _was_ going to be another Dark Lord, and another reign of terror, then James would be damned if he was going to sit back and not do anything about it. He was a Potter damn it.

"You've obviously never seen me duel," Samuel chuckled softly, "But back to what I was saying… what with the storm around the Potter family I thought you'd be stuck at home. No chaperone then?" he added jokingly.

"Ah," James smirked mischievously, "Well technically I'm supposed to be staying at home but I kinda snuck out…"

"HA!" David clapped his hands together, always one to enjoy a spot of mischief, "So you _actually_ had a chaperone?"

"Yeah kinda, but I slipped him one of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes' Brewdrops and snuck out. I was getting sick of being cramped up at the house like some helpless first year." James rubbed the back of his neck. It felt good to vent a little, "I figured my dad was just being overprotective as usual. I mean, it's not as though I need protection when I'm just flooing over to the house of a friend."

Unexpectedly, Takeda let out a bark of laughter.

"Nan baka!" he laughed, disconcerting for the difference in demeanour James was used to, "Sore wa kantan ni wa dekimasen!"

A faint smile crossed Samuel's face, though he shook his head disapprovingly. Feeling very stupid all of a sudden, James turned to David, "You understand that?"

David gave a grin of his own, "Mostly. I can't speak Japanese anywhere near as well as Samuel, so I don't get much of what Takeda's talking about most of the time. But I can catch the gist of what he's saying."

"And?"

Another grin. "Nothing complimentary."

James felt put out by that. "Just a figure of speech," he muttered ruefully. It wasn't as if he _actually_ considered Takeda to be a friend. Not by any stretch of the imagination. The only reason he even arranged to meet with the conceited tosser was because he wanted to find out if Takeda knew anything about what happened to Albus that night.

Speaking of…

"Anyway," James said, clearing his throat, "The reason I came here was because I wanted to ask Takeda about the last day of term."

"The night the Purifiers attacked?"

"Yeah, and seeing as you're all here I can ask the same of you guys as well. I take it you've all heard what happened to Albus that night?"

There was a collective nod of heads and murmured condolences.

"Well we've been using some new advancements to try and piece together what happened to him that night, and as far as we can tell right now you guys were the last to cross paths with him. Now I've already asked Nathan but he said he got separated from you early on, so I figure my best bet is that one of you lot might have seen him."

There was an exchange of looks among the three of them, a variety of facial expressions crossing each of their faces. Surprised, confused, questioning and, unsurprisingly in Takeda's case, disinterested.

"Albus was there that night?" David asked.

"Yeah, he was using an Invisibility Cloak. We know he was with you on the third floor just after you left the Room of Requirement. We're not sure where he went after that, but it makes sense that he would have followed you guys." He felt his heart sink again, "I take it from your reactions that you didn't see him then?"

Another exchange; each of them sharing looks of confirmation.

"Sorry James," David said, "We can't help you."

"None of us saw anything," Samuel said, "But that doesn't mean Albus wasn't there. He could have been with us the whole time and we could have never have known it."

James rubbed the bridge of his forehead, "So I've been told. But I don't see that being likely, do you?"

"…I suppose not."

"No… I can't see a reason why Albus would stay with you guys but choose to stay invisible," James sighed, "How about Alistair and Katherine though? We don't know if they saw anything."

"It's possible," Samuel said, "But Alistair and Katherine were with me the whole time," He nodded to David and Takeda, "After you two got separated as well."

"Yeah, but that was quite a bit later," David added sullenly.

Takeda just nodded his head, not even making an effort to pretend to care about James' brother.

"Maybe they saw something but…" Samuel held his hands out in front of him, gesturing that he did not care for the chances.

"Shit." James muttered. It looked like he had wasted a trip. Now what was he going to do? There wasn't too much point in visiting Katherine and Alistair if there was next to no chance that they saw anything. Especially if they were at the Ministry and James was pretty much on house arrest - it would be nearly impossible to reach them.

"If you want I can get in touch with them," Samuel offered, "Tell them that you are looking for information on your brother? You never know, maybe I missed something. It was… a bit hectic that night."

James nodded absently, seeing no point in refusing the offer. "Thanks."

Samuel gave a polite smile before sitting back in his chair, while James wondered what to do next.

He had some time before his mum came home with Lily, and found out that James had Bewildered his grandfather. Unless he wanted a bollicking when he got back he should probably leave before then. But James' natural predisposition to skirting trouble by the skin of his teeth stopped him from getting up straight away.

It wasn't like there was a huge rush, and there was no point in wasting a trip. He checked his watch. He had at least half an hour before they were supposed to get back, and he _had _been cooped up in the house for three days straight…

"Fancy a quick game before I go then?" he asked David, who snapped to attention.

"Of pool? Sure!" He jumped up off the couch and darted to the table. With a wave of his wand the various balls all rolled to their positions.

"You don't mind do you?" James asked Takeda as he got up.

"Saki ni iku" he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, turning towards Samuel.

"Uh… thanks."

He walked over to the table as Samuel and Takeda muttered to each other in Japanese.

With David deciding he should break, and James seeing no reason to argue, they began playing. It was a muggle table, no enchantments or special features, which was different to most of the tables they had played on before. That gave the Muggleborn David a distinct advantage. James was used to Wizards Pool or another variation of the game, where balls could glow, shoot foul smelling liquid at the closest player, veer off at odd angles, disappear or even explode. Sure he had played the muggle version before, but he found it far less exciting. His old housemate, on the other hand, revelled in the game, which relied on aim and precision rather than intuition and fast reflexes.

"So, you been up to much lately?" James asked as he lined up a shot.

"Nah not really," David said, applying chalk to the end of his cue, "I was in recovery at St. Mungo's until last week, trying to piece the arm back together. Since then I've not been doing much. Still on physical therapy."

"It's a miracle you were able to keep it at all." James hadn't seen the state David had been in on the night of the attack, what with his own face being near burned off, but he had heard about it. If it was half as bad as the rumours said then James was amazed his old friend was still alive.

"That's what they tell me." David stretched his arm out again, peering at his outstretched hand, "But you can't help but dwell on what's lost, you know?"

That's all James had been doing since they had found Albus.

"Not exactly, but I think I understand."

"Yeah…" David sank a ball into the corner pocket, "Hey, you remember the Gainsborough twins?"

"The two Slytherins in sixth year?"

David grinned wickedly, "Yeah, them."

James couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah I remember those two all right. I also remember you putting their little brother and his friends in the hospital wing."

"Idiot shouldn't have picked a fight he couldn't win."

"You don't think he was provoked a little bit?"

"I don't know if you can say that stating a well known fact is 'provoking' somebody…"

"No, but calling somebody's sisters the 'school brooms' is bound to set most people off."

David gave a careless shrug as James missed the pocket his was aiming for by an inch, "Facts are facts mate." His eyes glazed slightly as he looked out on nothing, "Merlin, I was quick on the draw."

"We still talking about the twins?"

"Duelling, you prat." He bent down to eye up a shot. "Four of them, waiting there as I came out of detention… Not a scratch on me," he sighed. His shot went wide by a fraction, sending the ball spinning across the table. "Now look at me. I can barely raise my arm above my head… So much for –"

His peered curiously at James' pocket. "Mate, your pocket's glowing."

"Wha -?" James peered down. So it was. A faint, red glow coming from the end of his wand. He reached down to take it out. "Huh, what do you think it – so is yours!"

David looked down at his own pocket, where his own wand was doing the same.

"The fuck?" David cried, leaning back in alarm. Samuel and Takeda had both stood up and were looking over at the pair of them.

"What is it?" Samuel said, reaching for his own wand which, like Takeda's, was unchanged.

"I don't know," James said, holding his wand up in front of him and examining it. "They just started –"

"Attention! Attention! This is a public safety broadcast!" A high warbled voice cried out from David and James' wands, making James nearly drop it in shock. "Attention! This is a public safety broadcast from the Ministry of Magic! Everybody should return to their homes at first possible convenience! Do not panic!" The sound was shrill and piercing, making James screw up his face as he held the wand at arm's length. David did the same, looking like he was holding a foul smelling Horklump

"Return to your homes as soon as you can!" the voice continued in its high pitched, painful wail, "There has been an attack! I repeat there has been an attack! Everyone return to your homes and first possible convenience! I repeat there has been another attack!"

James swallowed, looking up at David, Samuel and Takeda. They were all stood in the centre of the room, stupidly looking back and forth at each other in stunned silence, no one knowing what to say.

Well, so much for slipping home unnoticed…

* * *

**Author's notes:**

**First of all I don't speak Japanese, so if anyone does understand Japanese and sees obvious mistakes don't hesitate to let me know with a PM and I'll get it fixed, cheers.**

**Goddamit I don't know why but the scene with Harry and Draco was a nightmare to write. And I had some difficulty with the end of James' bit too, which is why this chapter took a bit longer to get done. I dunno why, I think its more of a planning problem than anything else. When I'm not 100% sure where the scene is going I find it much harder to get through. On a plus point though, I found that writing out later scenes helped to clear the block, which means the later chapters should come out faster and sooner, so huzzah for that I suppose.**

**If Albus seems a bit mopey in these chapters, it's because his memories are following a certain theme. Don't worry, the wee man will buck up in chapters to come.**

'**School brooms' is the Wizarding equivalent of 'school bikes' or a variation of the phrase. Basically it's saying that everyone's had a ride…**

**Anyway, thanks for reading.**


	5. Chapter 5: The Cliffcoat Incident

**A/N: Just to avoid any possible confusion, this chapter starts before the end of chapter 4. **

**We good? Okay, let's do this.**

**XXXXXXXX**

Harry and Ron strode purposefully down the dark passageway. They were kitted in the dark, official robes of Aurors. Their faces were grim. Behind them, over two dozen figures wearing identical robes marched in a brisk pace. Some wore protective masks. Some wore bright blue stripes around their arm; some wore red stripes instead; some wore green. Some of them gripped sleek, black brooms in firm grips. None of them spoke. None of them looked anywhere but ahead.

These were not the Aurors who fought in the time of Lord Voldemort, and this was not the same Auror Division. Back when Harry was in Hogwarts Aurors were respected as the elite of Magical Law Enforcement, and rightly so. But even as Harry had moved up through the ranks towards the position of Head Auror he had strived to move the department towards a less elite and more streamlined division. Aurors were the best of the best, there was no denying that, but they had always been a division aimed at taking down Dark Wizards on an individual or small number basis. They worked in small groups, or alone. Harry had seen first hand how they had fared when faced with the threat of Lord Voldemort, and the truth of the matter was that elite though they may have been the Auror Division had been pitifully overwhelmed.

Now that Harry was Head Auror, the Auror Division was almost unrecognisable from how they had been when he first entered the Ministry. The standards were still ridiculously high with an eighty five percent dropout rate for applicants, but now they had the numbers. And they worked with the coordination and efficiency of a top of the line Ministry Branch. This made them extremely dangerous for any Dark Wizard who made the mistake of being caught operating on British soil. When they reached their destination they would be met by other contingents operating from around the country. Harry had objected to the commitment of so many, but his authority only went so high, even regarding his own division.

Still, if the information that had been rocketing around the Ministry cortex was true they would get a chance to show this Lord Noctis just what a mistake it was to take up where Riddle had left off.

The passageway they walked through was dark, with single lights burning pale in the gloom every ten metres. The cold bricks around them echoed with the sounds of their footsteps. Up ahead the way split into two different directions. At the intersection a small, grim looking man clutched a clipboard. Behind him a four-man Auror squad stood motionless. Harry did not break stride as he took the tunnel on the left and the group felt into step alongside him.

"Prewley," Harry said by way of greeting, "What have we got?"

Prewley was a short, balding man in his late forties. All the time he spent in the Drop tunnels had made his skin pale and waxy. He was a dour man, and not one to waste time. He held up his clipboard to read as he walked beside Harry. Above it a ball of light the size of a marble floated lazily, giving him light to read by.

"Approximately ten minutes ago the Communication Overwatch received reports of two people in the seaside town of Cliffcoat letting off what the local muggles thought were fireworks. One of them covered in a robe and hood and the other…" he paused as he read, "…was apparently a muggle man known to the locals as Joseph Platt. It was this man who identified himself as Lord Noctis. He made some kind of declaration that the town should be evacuated. Of course the muggles just thought he was a nutter, but when a muggle Auror –"

"Policeman," Harry corrected. He had dealt with Scotland Yard on several occasions.

"Right, when he tried to remove them from the area, apparently he …" he frowned at the page as if someone had used it to blow their nose, "…vanished in a flash of blue light."

"Hm."

"Yeah… So naturally there was a panic, real mess. Police were called, which is gonna be a real bitch to clean up with the Muggle Liaison Offices. And people started fleeing the area. Now, they had no idea who that we've been monitoring muggle communications, but when we picked up traffic on the name…well…"

"That's when we were called in," Harry finished.

"Right."

"So what do we know about the area?"

"As of now, nothing. For all we know it's a small town on the coast of the Irish Sea. Out of the way of anywhere. Small population. Nothing remarkable."

"And what's to say this isn't just some wizard nut job?" Ron asked tersely, "We've got almost the entire division congregating on a town on the arse end of nowhere based on some pretty shaky information."

Harry agreed with Ron on that. As soon as the report of a man calling himself Lord Noctis had come down the line, the Minister himself had ordered the entire Auror division to action. Harry had objected to the heavy handed decision but the whole Ministry was frightened, and demanded that the full force of the Auror Office be employed.

It seemed that politicians were jumpy and panicky when frightened. Who knew?

"Not a whole lot, really," Prewley said, frowning at Ron, "But the fact that a known muggle is the one who is calling himself Lord Noctis suggests possession, which fits the little information we have on our Undesirable Number One."

"Perhaps," Harry mused, "But it's the second figure that worries me. Another possession implies that Noctis is keeping himself out of harms way for the attack. We don't know the extent of his abilities while controlling another body, but if past experience is any indicator I would think that Noctis is leaving the heavy lifting up to our mystery man."

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered, "He's got followers already."

"Not followers."

"Hm?"

"No, it's too soon for that. If this is Noctis then this likely another attack, his first since he chose to reveal himself three days ago. There is no way he would leave something like this to a recruit. Not alone."

"If he is alone," Prewley sniffed.

Harry nodded, "Possible. But I'm working with the facts I have in front of me. Right now, our reports say two."

"So what is he then?" Ron asked.

Harry frowned thoughtfully at the floor, "A disciple."

Ron looked incredulous. "What?"

"Dark Lord's amass followers. It's inevitable. Witches and wizards are drawn to the power and prestige that a powerful dark wizard can offer. If Noctis is the one behind this then whoever this hooded figure is, they've been with Noctis for longer than three days. Possibly even since the beginning, when this tosser decided to start calling himself by a new name."

Ron's eyebrows a fraction, "Then that would mean…"

"That's right; whoever this hooded bloke is they probably know who Noctis is. Who he really is. If we can capture them then…" He rubbed his hands together as he trailed off. They would be a step closer to stopping the new Dark Lord before he got started. They would be a step closer to finding a way to help Albus.

"You sound happy about this whole thing."

Harry looked to the side and saw that Ron was give him a measuring look.

"I don't know," he sighed, "With the past few days…" He lowered his voice so only Ron could hear, "The last few _weeks_, being what they have… I feel like I've been on the back foot, just waiting and reacting. I mean, what with the fallout from Noctis' appearance at the Ministry we've been working like mad to piece the department back together, and the whole time I was just _waiting_."

"How d'you mean?"

"I figure that whoever this Lord Noctis bloke really is, he's got a plan. And what we saw in the Atrium was just the beginning. So far we've got bugger all to work with, so I've been waiting for his next move, his next push. And I've got to admit, Ron, it's been getting to me." They continued walking at a steady pace, both their boots and those of the Aurors behind them making a gentle tap tap that echoed through the wide tunnel. "I'm sick of waiting," he said, "For the last few days I've almost _wished_ that something would happen, because then I'd know what to do. Does that make any sense?"

Ron gave a shrug, "I couldn't tell you mate. These aren't exactly normal times. The way I figure it, we've got a job to do." Up ahead a wide metal door peered out of the gloom. "I just want to get it done, so I can go home to my family at the end of the day and know that the world's a little bit safer. You've always been the one who carried this stuff home with you."

"Fair enough, I guess." Ron could turn it off, Harry knew. But he hadn't taken a direct blow. He hadn't had to see his family suffer for his choices. He had managed to keep his job and his family life firmly separated since that incident with the Syrian hit-wizard. Harry couldn't fault his oldest friends for it; he just wished it could be that simple for him.

They approached the end of the tunnel and the cold, imposing looking door jutting out at its end. Flanked by two impassive guards, it looked like the entrance to a bomb shelter. Harry strode up to it a pressed his wand against the dark metal surface. For a moment they stood in silence, waiting, and then there was a resounding clunk on the other side as heavy bolts slid into place and the door clanked open. Inside was a large circular room, just as dark as the tunnel except for the waning purple light emanating from the middle. In the dead centre of the room a single torch burned, the flame flickering purple. Spreading out from it was a dizzyingly complex array of runes and symbols wide enough to park three buses.

"Alright people you know the drill," he called over his shoulder as the Aurors filed into the Drop Room, "I want this done by the numbers, we'll be meeting with the rest of the regional departments at the site. He checked his watch, "Liddling and her Wings will have a site secured for us by now so until you receive your orders I want a perimeter established and everything accounted for."

They followed his orders without comment, the several hard faced dozen men and women getting into position within the wide circle of arcane symbols. Harry and Ron took their positions in the centre and Harry placed his hand over the purple flame which licked up and around his hand. It felt warm and tingled unpleasantly, but didn't burn. Harry turned to Prewley who was standing outside the circle and weaving his wand in a complicated pattern.

"Are we set?"

Prewley glanced up, his face scrunched up in concentration. "Just a second. This Cliffcoat place is a little out of the way."

Harry nodded and left him to finish his calculations. They were a wonderful invention, the Drop Rooms. Only finished two years prior, it had taken a collaboration of people from both inside and outside of Britain to complete. Over fifty specialists from dozens of different departments worked on it. Even Hermione had been called in towards the end to oversee some of the finishing touches. There were about a dozen of them all over the country, and they allowed for the deployment of large numbers with relative ease. They even worked seamlessly with Ministry Anti-Appartition fields, letting the Aurors in while sealing of the exits of anyone caught in the field. If only –

"We're ready!" Prewley called.

"Okay," Harry said, jutting out of his reverie, "Let's do this clean people. We don't know what's waiting for us out there, so I don't want any heroics out there."

He saw the Aurors bristle and steady themselves. They were ready.

"Explicandum!" he yelled, gripping the flames and giving them a mighty pull. It felt like he was yanking a heavy chord.

And the floor disappeared beneath them, leaving them falling into the nothingness below.

XXXXX

The wind was picking up, threatening to become a full storm. Cold rain pecked at his face like thousands of tiny angry birds. He did not mind; he barely felt it.

He barely noticed much of what was around him. The sound of waves crashing against the rocks below was muted and dull. The chill of the air was a faraway disturbance. The rustle of grass a whisper. The figure at his side shifted restlessly underneath their hooded cloak, the air whipping it back and forth violently. Excited? Or nervous? He didn't bother himself with wondering. It made little difference. His mind was elsewhere.

Already the little black birds had arrived. The scouting parties, the wayclearers. They did not concern him. He was waiting for something else. Someone else.

He reached out, feeling. It wouldn't be long now, if he had calculated correctly. If he had the right idea of the man.

There! There it was. He felt it, saw it, tasted it. The hot purple blaze, flaring invisible at the edge of the town. They had picked the obvious spot. They were nothing if not predictable. He allowed himself a smile. The muscles felt strange as they pulled back; unfamiliar, foreign.

He was here. It was time to begin.

XXXXX

Harry felt his feet hit dirt, but before he could get a sense of balance on the seemingly sliding floor his knees buckled beneath him.

He dropped a half step before he felt an arm grip him firmly at the elbow and hold him up steady. His training kicked in and his wand was up in the next heartbeat, scanning about him in a wide arc along with the rest of the rapidly expanding circle of Aurors as they moved away from the Drop in well honed synchronisation under the sheet of freezing rain.

Ron released his grip on Harry's elbow as he regained his bearings. It was shameful really. Muggleborn or not, he was Head Auror and he still couldn't manage to keep his feet on the drop site. It didn't matter that he had an excellent sense of balance, or that he had made ran countless Drops on his own time trying to get it down pat; he just couldn't manage to stick the landings. And that wasn't even getting started on Flooing.

"Cheers," he muttered, taking in his surroundings. They had landed next to a house overlooking what Harry assumed was Cliffcoat. The weather out here was worse than in London. The rain was pouring down viciously and a strong wind tugged and pushed at them. Raising his hand to shield his glasses so he could get a quick look of the town, he saw that it was small and simple looking, the rest of the houses low built and sturdy looking against the weather. Past them Harry could make out the ocean, though most of his view was obstructed by the house. For all intents and purposes it looked like a regular town, no plumes of smoke or burning buildings. Could this all be a waste of time?

Looking up at the house they landed at Harry could see several divisions of Aurors from other parts of the country had already arrived, and were vigilantly waiting outside the building and peering about themselves.

"C'mon, they'll be waiting for us," Harry said, and he and Ron made their way lurching through the gale and shouldered into the front door.

Inside the place looked comfortable and well lived in. A muggle residence, obviously, it had evidently been cleared out in a hurry, as a steaming mug of tea was still sitting on the kitchen table. It was standard procedure in large scale operations that required a base of operations within Muggle residential areas. This house was a good choice of HQ, far enough outside the town to keep away from any immediate danger, close enough to command from. The view over the town was a bonus.

"This is supposed to be summer weather?" he said as he charmed the water off his glasses. Behind him Ron shut the door, which let the roaring wind die down to a low moan.

"You know what they say about British summer." Ron said as he ruffled the water out of his red hair.

"Yeah," Harry grumbled, nodding to a couple of Aurors standing guard as he climbed the simple wooden staircase to where the HQ would have been set up, "It's the best day of the year."

At the top of the stairs was what appeared to be another living room, though all of the furniture had been swept to the walls to allow room for the people inside. In the north wall was a wide set of double windows, through which the town would be visible. Bustling about were a number of assistants and runners, carrying notes and orders back and forth and Apparating in and out the room. In the corners two impassive Aurors stood watch, and in the centre were the regional Heads, gathered about and waiting for him. They looked up as he climbed onto the landing.

"Are we all here?" he asked.

"Just waiting for Lewis," said the youngest looking one. Kingsway, an excitable young man with a beater's build, closely shaved crew cut and honest face.

"Okay, has there been any sign of the two men from the report?"

A fierce looking, grey haired witch with a claw shaped scar spreading up from her neck stepped forward. Liddling. She didn't look happy, but then again she never did.

"My men caught sight of two figures who matched the description in the report when they performed the preliminary sweep of the town. It seemed they were watching from a vantage point on one of the cliffs, but they vanished before my men could get any closer."

"Any verification it was Noctis?"

She frowned like Harry's question was a personal insult, "With the distance, not to mention this damnable weather, its impossible to say for certain."

"Okay," Harry said, rubbing his hands together and trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice, "Well we'll set up on the assumption that it was, for now. Now we just have to wait for Lewis before we can-"

"No you don't," called a voice from the bottom of the stairs. A thin, pasty man staggered up to the top, "No you don't," he repeated breathlessly, leaning on his knees for support, "Phew, some weather eh?"

"Just in time Lewis," Harry said. The lanky looking man smiled politely and leant heavily against the table, showing a balding head of thin black hairs. Harry strode across the room and opened the windows. Time to start the briefing, "So we're all here. Let's see what we're dealing wi-"

He stopped, the words dying in his throat.

He looked out over the small town. Rain lashed down over the rooftops, buffeted by the roaring wind and largely obscuring the view of the ocean behind, which broiled furiously in the turbulent weather. A vast, grey ocean under a dismal sky, dark and colourless like the town itself. It was a quiet, unremarkable, little seaside town, probably with a population of a thousand at the most. On either side of it, sheer cliffs of dark rock rose up blocking any sight of the surrounding landscape with cold, unfriendly looking cliff faces. Anyone else would question why anyone would choose to attack such an isolated and seemingly insignificant place, but not Harry.

Because leering up from the back of his mind was a dark realisation, a recognition he had never expected to feel. He recognised this place.

He had been here before.

Not the town, but… the ocean. He recognised it well. Cold, grey, lashed with howling wind and rain while the dark cliffs loomed overhead, unforgiving and uncaring. Yes, he had visited this wretched looking place years before. And he had visited it again countless times, in his nightmares. The crushing cold. The still, echoing darkness. The clawing hands, dragging him down to sleep forever. The choking waves of dead flesh. The whispered voice, begging Harry to kill him, to end his misery. The voice of Albus Dumbledore.

This was the town where Tom had hidden one of his horcruxes. Somewhere in those cliffs was a cave. A cave that Harry had very nearly died in. Where Dumbledore had spent his last, terrible moments in a failed mission to weaken the Dark Lord before returning to Hogwarts to face his death. Harry had searched for years to find this place without success. It seemed that Tom had burned up his trail too well, and whatever clues Dumbledore had dug up had been lost to the years as he was.

The recognition sent a cold chill up Harry's spine, because he knew what why they were here now. He knew what the attack was.

There was a reason why Harry had been looking for this place for so long. A reason why he sometimes woke up shaking in the middle of the night.

Out across the rain soaked streets, the waves pounded the shore. Here and there, dotted among the roaring waves, he could see them. They were just hazy pinpricks in through the rain but he could see them. Already, they were starting to show their heads. Dark figures walking out of the dark water. Slowly, inevitably. First the head, then the shoulders and the body, making their way up the shore. More and more with each passing moment. Blackening the coast with their dark silhouettes, shambling steadily up the wet sand and towards the houses of the town. A score, an army.

Harry could hear the disbelief in the rest of the command staff's voices as they looked out and saw the same thing he did.

Harry had no idea how, but Lord Noctis had found Riddle's cave.

And he had unleashed the Inferi inside.

"Kingsway!" he barked, making the young Auror behind him jump to attention, "I want five block and barrier squads along the water front right away! Put down ground-shifters to slow down their progress and put your best men on fire spells. Conflagrations, Inflamaraes.. hell, Fiendfyre if any of them can work it! Take a back up team to help you clear the way. Your line will have the best chance to hit them hard before they reach the houses."

"R-right!" the man spluttered, looking nervous. He glanced out across the town, looking towards the ocean. There were more of them out of the sea now. A black tide of the dead steadily making there way toward the town. From this distance it was impossible to hear the screams, but there was no doubt that the muggles in the seaside houses were in a panic. Kingsway paused nervously, hesitating. He had just been promoted, owing to the recent turnovers in the Ministry. A bright young lad; idealistic and eager to prove himself.

But it looked like he hadn't been expecting _this _for his first major assignment. The rest of the command staff didn't look too happy either at that. Inferi were terrible creatures, dead bodies reanimated and set to dark purpose. They scared the hell out of most witches and wizards, and that was in small numbers. No one had ever seen them en mass like this before; no wonder they looked anxious. And this was just the tip of the iceberg. Harry himself had to squash a wave of panic that was threatening to rise from his gut. He remembered the clawing, dead hands pulling him down into the darkness; the cold water rushing into his mouth on that terrible night when Dumbledore had lost his life. He repressed a shudder and worked his face into a scowl, smothering his fear in anger.

This would not do.

Harry reached out and grabbed a fistful of Kingsway's robes, yanking him forward with a yelp so that they were almost touching noses. The rest of the staff jumped with surprise, tearing their eyes away from the ocean. "You are the first line of defence," Harry snarled, "You have the ground advantage and you have the strike time. You hit them with fire before they reach the town and you keep out of their way while you're doing it."

The Auror blinked at him with wide eyes, momentarily stunned, "LIGHT UP THE OCEAN, KINGSWAY!" Harry roared, "I want that coastline to burn! Torch anything that sticks its head out the water! I want you to consider every Inferi that makes it onto dry land a PERSONAL BLOODY FAILURE!"

"Right!" Kingsway shouted fierily as Harry let go of his robes. He straightened himself up and nodded to Harry before striding purposefully down the steps, barking orders to his own subordinates.

Harry turned to look at the rest of the staff, who were now standing to attention. To the side Harry could see Ron covering up a grin with his hand. They looked purposeful, eager. They looked ready.

Much better.

"Lewis!" Harry snapped, earning a hearty 'Yes sir!' from the lanky, sick looking Auror. "I want you to take four teams into the town. You will be taking any muggles still in the town out of the combat zone. Start from the waterfront and work your way back. Use the delta Portkeys to take them out and leave a team to watch over them once you have them in the safe zone."

The other man paused, "Right, sir! Um, just how much of the –"

"The whole sodding town is the combat zone!" Harry shouted, "Split into teams of two and move fast! Tell them there's been a bomb threat and the whole area needs to be evacuated, now! Do whatever you need to do, but you Get. Them. Out. Of. The. Town!"

"Yes sir, right away!" Lewis shouted and stormed off.

Okay, that was some time bought.

"Liddling."

"Sir." The elderly witched stepped forward, the ever present scowl on her scarred face. In her right hand she gripped a sleek black broomstick.

"Take half the Wings and use them to support Kingsway on the front line. He won't be able to hold the Inferi back forever, and when that happens I want you to take anyone incapable of getting themselves out of harms way to support the Aurors in the town; the same goes for anyone caught injured or incapacitated out there. I want the rest of them positioned over the town in a Class Four Onyx grid. Get them spread out wide and keeping watch over our positions. You're out eye in the sky - I'm not convinced this is going to be as straightforward as it seems and I need you to look out for any nasty surprises that might get thrown our way."

Liddling nodded in silence, and for a moment Harry half expected her to give a complaint or correction of some kind. The two of them had had several disagreements throughout the years. She had been in the Auror division long before Harry had arrived, and didn't hesitate to let him know when she thought there was a better course of action to take.

But to Harry's relief she took the orders without hesitation and marched out the room. While the headstrong old woman might occasionally have issues with Harry's command, she knew better than to question them at a time like this.

Apart from the statuesque Aurors assigned to watch over the HQ and the support staff who shuffled their documents nervously as they waited for instruction, there were two people left.

"Finch-Fletchley," Harry said, making the pudgy faced man next to Ron stand to attention.

"Sir."

"You and Weasely will take the rest of the men and head into the town. With their numbers it's only a matter of time until the Inferi break through. That means the majority of the fighting is going to be an urban combat situation."

"Yes sir."

"Keep the men in their squads of four and keep them moving. They're suited for this kind of fight but I don't want them to get bogged down. Use the terrain and don't let yourselves get surrounded. And watch out for any surprises."

"Keep moving; don't get caught out; look out for surprises. Got it." Finch- Fletchley nodded in acknowledgement, all business.

It was funny; Harry's old schoolmate looked remarkably different from the impressionable boy that had been convinced Harry was a dark wizard in their second year. After the Battle of Hogwarts he had joined the Auror Office. It seemed that he had been a changed man by what he had been through. Though that was not an uncommon thing for Harry's old schoolmates who had been there in the final days of Riddle's reign. Whatever disagreements they may have had in the past, Harry knew he was reliable.

"Then get it done!"

"Sir!"

He strode down the stairs and outside, barking orders at the Aurors waiting and forming them into squads. Ron made to follow him out but stopped at the top of the stairway.

"No sign of Noctis. Or the hooded figure," he observed.

"No," Harry said, "It's likely they're hiding out for the time being. They know that if we saw them they would be our first point of attack."

"So we've probably got at least two dark wizards of unknown ability in that town, along with who knows what else."

Harry got the gist of what he was saying. This operation was shaky at best. They were under prepared and working with unknown factors.

"That's about right," he said. He glanced back over the town. "Stay safe Ron."

Ron looked back at him, his face taking on the same surly expression he had whenever they were about to go into combat. "You know me mate, all safety first."

Harry let out a humourless note of laughter, "I'm serious, don't take any risks out there."

"Got it. Boss," he cracked a grin, headed down the stairs and was gone.

That left Harry alone with the guards and the aides of his HQ. He let out a sigh and ran his hands through his hair. He didn't like this. How had Lord Noctis found Riddle's cave, when Harry had searched for years and failed? How had he known about it in the first place, or managed to get the Inferi out for that matter? Harry had an uneasy feeling that didn't have anything to do with the army of the dead making their way out of the crashing waves. This whole affair seemed… _off_. It seemed too straightforward - a mass attack of Inferi. After the subterfuge at the Ministry it just didn't seem like Noctis' style.

He placed his hands on the window sill and leaned heavily against the frame, peering out over the town. The rain was coming down heavily now, the roaring wind lashing it against the houses. The day's light was dimming as well, making it hard to see clearly as Harry watched the Aurors moving into position. Black dots moving amongst the houses, flying over the rooftops in tight formation despite the weather, forming up lines between the first houses on the seafront and the horrors rising from the water. The ocean churned violently, sending massive waves crashing down on the beach, where more and more dark figures could be seen moving slowly up the sand while the people ran back through the town in terror.

Somewhere out there, he was watching. Harry could feel it. Somewhere in that little town Noctis and his hooded servant were waiting. For what, Harry could only guess, though he knew it was nothing good.

Even so, he couldn't help but feel a faint glimmer of excitement, of eagerness. He was out there somewhere, and Harry would find him. He had made it personal when he had called Harry out, back in the Atrium; when he had mocked Harry's inability to protect his family. He had made it personal before that, back before any of this had started, when he had done whatever he had done to Albus.

He thought about Albus, his shy and quiet son, always looking to prove himself, to show that he could reach some impossible standard he had set for himself. How he was now laying in his bed, his pale face lifelessly frozen as he lay dead to the world. Unmoving, unresponsive. A vegetable at the age of fifteen.

Lord Noctis had made it personal when he had attacked Harry's family. And Harry was going to make damn sure he paid the price for that mistake.

He was out there somewhere. And Harry would find him.

XXXXX

Albus Potter was speechless.

The boat rocked unsteadily as the cold water lapped against the side. Inky black in the night and cool in the still air. The sky around them was pitch black and cloudless. Hundreds of stars shone overhead; tiny pinpricks of light in the darkness stretching away to infinity. But Albus paid them no mind; his eyes were caught up in the spectacle slowly rising up towards him.

Hogwarts.

Hundreds, maybe thousands of windows shone with warm light, dotted around the twisting turrets and looming battlements, sending out brilliant golden swathes into the darkness. Towering walls stretched up impossibly high, each of them studded with arches and alcoves beyond counting. Walkways linked them to each other and to towers jutting firmly out of the tangle, stabbing out at the night sky. A beautiful, sprawling maze, a wondrous miniature city. A sight he had dreamed of his whole life, and now that he saw it it took his breath away.

He was finally here. After hearing about it for so long. His father, Teddy, his brother, they had all told him about this place. A school that felt like home, a marvellous and insane place where the witches and wizards of Britain for hundreds of years had come to learn magic. For so long he had heard their stories and their descriptions and now that he was here he found they had all sadly failed to capture the giddy, childlike _magic_ of the place. This was where Albus was going to go for the next seven years, and it was an adventure that he couldn't wait to start.

"Quite a sight 'innit?" boomed the voice of the towering figure at the back of Albus' boat.

He turned around, sending ripples in the water around him as the boat rocked further, to see Hagrid grinning at him.

"What?" he asked stupidly, momentarily off balance.

"Don' sweat it Al," the half giant chuckled merrily, "It happ'ns to a lot of firs' years when they see the castle for the firs' time." He looked pointedly around and Albus followed his gaze. All around them, the boat of the other first years drifted through the still water. Looking at the faces of the other kids he could see many of their expressions were lit up in wonder just like his must have been. He couldn't help but grin widely, though he probably looked like a maniac. These were the people he would be spending the next seven years with, and it looked like they could appreciate the wonder of the castle as much as he could. It was a nice feeling, after the uncomfortable train ride cramped in James' overcrowded compartment with older kids he didn't really know; now he was another face in the crowd. Identical, anonymous, just another excited first year seeing Hogwarts for the first time.

As he peered out over the boats, he caught sight of a girl with ghostly pale blonde hair the next boat over who had noticed him looking. Though it was hard to make out in the darkness, the close distance meant Albus could see her head was turned towards him with a curious expression on her face. He snapped his head back to face ahead of him, feeling his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. He must have looked like a complete weirdo, grinning about at the boats around him.

"Ahh, never gets old, it does." Hagrid sighed contently, "I can still 'member my firs' time boating 'cross. Had to have me own boat an' all, even at that age." He chuckled to himself at that. Albus, meanwhile, had settled back to gazing up at the warm golden lights as the castle sailed slowly closer, resolving to not come across as a creep on his first day. "Course," Hagrid mused, "Still managed t' tip the boat over anyhow. Boats we 'ad then were flimsy as anythin'. Was helped back into me boat by the gian' squid itself."

"Giant squid?" Albus gulped. Was he being serious? No one in his family had ever mentioned that.

"Oh yes," Hagrid said, "Beautiful creature. Real friendly. We migh' even get the chance to see it t'night if we're lucky."

Albus nodded mutely, though in all honesty the idea of a giant squid swimming in the water beneath them was more than a little frightening. He had known Hagrid for years, and he knew the man's idea of friendly usually coincided with other people's idea of 'terrifying' or 'bloodthirsty and murderous'. He leaned slightly over the edge, peering down at the pitch black water.

"An' I remember your father's firs' day as well," Hagrid continued, oblivious, "Now that was an event and a 'alf. 'Arry Potter at Hogwarts. Don't reckon I've seen a sortin' people were more excited for."

The sorting. Albus had completely forgotten. A fresh wave of nerves hit him as he fretted for the thousandth time over where he would be put. He tried to remember what his father had told him on the platform. It didn't matter what house he went to, despite James' teasing. Being sorted into Slytherin house didn't have to be a bad thing.

Of course every child in wizarding Britain knew about the four houses of Hogwarts, but Albus had never really given much thought to where he would end up in the past. These last few weeks however, with the arrival of his Hogwarts letter and James' incessant teasing, he had stayed up late worrying about where he would be sorted. Where he had always assumed that being sorted into Gryffindor was a given, he now obsessed over where he would be suited. He was smart (well, at least his parents seemed to think so, and their bias was questionable); he was quick thinking and tended to think about himself before others (though he didn't consider it to a selfish degree, but _his_ bias was definitely questionable) and Merlin knew he was hard working. What with his constant efforts to match the standards of a popular and successful brother and a father whose job likely had him performing unimaginable feats of bravery and heroism on a weekly basis.

If there was one trait Albus could never attribute to himself, it was bravery.

"Rem'mber it like it was yest'rday," Hagrid rumbled on in his deep voice, "Longest sorting anyone'd seen since…" he frowned in thought, "Well, longest in a while that's fer sure. Everyone wonderin' 'where's 'Arry Potter gone t'be sorted?'" He looked down at Albus, smiling fondly, "Course, there's no doubt where you'll be sorted, eh Al?" he chuckled again at that, his wide hairy face beaming merrily.

"Right," Albus chuckled, though he felt like anything but laughing.

That was the problem, everyone knew exactly where Albus would be sorted.

Everyone but Albus.

Albus was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he was startled when the boat bumped against the hard stone. Looking up he saw that the boats had floated into some kind of dock cut out of the cave stone under the castle. All around him other boats had come to a stop and other first years were climbing out, chattering to each other excitedly.

Albus bid his goodbye to Hagrid as he clambered unsteadily out the boat. The massive man waved him off cheerfully and wished him luck at the sorting, leaving Albus to scramble up onto the dock.

"Hi."

Albus looked up. It was her, the girl from the boat. She stood there looking at him with a satisfied smile like she had just won something, though as to what Albus had no idea.

From this distance he could see that she was quite pretty, and suddenly Albus felt very self conscious. He stood frozen on the spot in front of her, the two of them standing there as other first years were getting off the boats and heading up the wide staircase at the end of the room. He had no idea what to say.

"Uh, hi," he said, wanting to say something, anything to avoid the rapidly approaching awkward silence.

"You're the boy that was looking at everyone," she said definitively, though her voice was low and hard to hear over the din of the other children milling around them.

"Um… yeah. Sorry." God, he sounded like an idiot.

The silence returned as she continued to look at him as though she were measuring him.

"What were you so happy for?" she asked, as though it were an innocent question for all Albus was having trouble coming up with an answer.

"Uh, I dunno," he said sheepishly. How was he supposed to say this without sounding like a moron? "I guess… I was just excited about," he glanced around them, taking in the cavernous dock and the still water beyond that reflected the cosy, inviting lights overhead. "Well… _everything_."

As he spoke her smirk broke out into a full-on grin that lit up her attractive face from ear to ear. All of a sudden she leaned forward conspiratorially, the awkwardness and the distance between them both vanishing in a blink.

"I _know_ right?" she asked excitedly, her words coming out in a jumble. "I mean, the whole invisible platform thing and the colourful train and the owls and the weird people and the weird candy and _did you see the hopping chocolate frogs?_ I only got my letter a couple of weeks ago and now…" she took a breath as she struggled to find her next words, "Its all so _unreal_, you know?"

Albus was stunned. Both by the inhuman speed the girl had spoken with and by the strange turn his already strange encounter had taken. He grasped for something to say.

"Yeah, I know… I just found out there's a giant squid living in the lake."

The words seemed to have a funny effect on the girl, as a myriad of expressions crossed her face. First her eyebrows widened in shock and excitement, before creasing into a suspicious frown as she wondered if he was teasing her. After a moment of examination, where Albus' impassive face seemed to have passed her approval, she once again opened up into a beam of high spirited excitement. She began to pace towards the door with a bewildered Albus at her side, looking around at the docks again as if seeing everything for the first time.

"This. Place. Is. _Awesome!_" she cried happily.

They reached the steps and began climbing up after the other first years, who were reaching the landing at the top and already turning the corner. All the while the bizarre young girl hardly stopped talking, buzzing from step to step with infectious enthusiasm as she rattled off about how excited she was.

"I mean the train ride was crazy some kid got into an argument with another kid and zapped his face and all these bats started flying out of his nose. And some old lady was selling all this magical candy and I didn't know what to try so I just bought some chocolate but it escaped out the window. But the rest of the people in my carriage were all older than me so no one really wanted to talk to me and the girls on the boat smelled funny and now I've met you and you seem nice and whatdoyouthinkofthecastlesof ar?"

Albus blinked dumbly as she looked at him. Her words had come out in a frantic jumble and for the life of him he could not work out what she had just asked.

"Umm, excuse me?"

"Oh, sorry," she said, her tone changing, "I um… I ramble when I'm nervous." She stopped on the step suddenly, making Albus falter as he nearly walked past her. He turned back to see her looking up at him.

She suddenly looked radically different, more a shy little girl than a motor mouthed nutter. Nervous, she had said. Albus found it hard to believe that a pretty girl could even _get _nervous.

She shot a hand out, "I'm Amy. Amy Adler."

As she looked at him expectantly Albus couldn't help but feel his heart sink. He had been enjoying listening to the strange cheerful girl. It was nice to meet someone had no idea who he was. Who didn't treat him specially or like a character out of a history book. But he couldn't have expected it to last forever.

"Albus Potter," he mumbled as he shook her hand.

Here it comes…

"Nice to meet you. So do you think you're gonna join the duelling club when you reach fourth year? I'm not sure cos I don't really have a good idea of what spells we'll be able to do yet. I mean I don't like the idea of trying to fight someone who can make you explode with a word, but I guess…"

She had begun to walk back up the stairs and turned around when she noticed Albus wasn't following her, "What?"

Albus looked up at her, speechless. It might have seemed arrogant on his part but Albus had yet to meet someone who didn't immediately respond a certain way when he told them his name. It was either a '_the_ Albus Potter, son of…' or a 'wow you look nothing like I expected you to…' or the much hated 'hey can you introduce me to your father…'. This was completely unexpected. And now Albus was painfully aware that he was looking like an idiot again.

"Um, nothing," he spluttered, following her up, "It's just that it's called Dumbledore's Army, and it's not really a duelling club it's more a volunteer student association where students learn to protect themselves and others people."

She nodded thoughtfully at that, seemingly ignoring his brief moment of confoundment, "Oh I had no idea. I just heard someone talking about it on the train." She peered over at him, "How do you know that?"

"Well, my brother's a member, and I was planning to join when I can. He told me I've got a knack for spellwork and…" Though it should have been obvious from the start, it was only then that it hit him. "Wait a minute, you're a Muggleborn?!"

Again they stopped on the staircase as she turned towards him. "Yeah," she said, grinning proudly, "I just found out I was a witch a couple weeks ago. Why?"

"No it's just…" She was looking at him curiously now, "I've never met a Muggleborn my age before."

"Really?" she asked, as if such a thing was inconceivable, "How?"

"Well, I mean… I've met muggles of course. But, I've... well, think about it. A Muggleborn kid's only going to find out about magic when they get to your age, so I've never had the chance to meet one until now.

"Oh," she said, "I guess that makes sense. So is this a big deal for you or something?" Her tone was playful as she began climbing the steps again.

Albus struggled to hide his grin. She had no idea of the magical world. No idea who he was. To her he was just another kid.

"No. Not a big deal at all."

They continued chatting happily as they ascended the stairs, Amy twittering on excitedly about her new experiences in the magical world while Albus explained the ins and outs of things he had always taken for common knowledge. As they climbed Albus found it easier to talk to her; and more and more he felt surprisingly comfortable with this easy going stranger.

He had always been considered a quiet boy by his family and those he was close to, which was more or less the same group. His family's celebrity status coupled with his unshiftable aversion to strangers and spotlight meant that Albus had never made many friends growing up. Sure he knew other kids his own age. In the tight knit social networks his family seemed to operate in it was impossible not to. But Albus had never really, truly known someone his own age he could call a friend. This girl Amy was different. As they continued to talk he found that he wasn't feeling nervous or self conscious around her. Whether it was due to the new environment and their shared excitement for it, the fact that she knew nothing of wizarding life and of him or the simple fact that her unrelenting exuberance for everything under the sun made shyness impossible, he couldn't say.

Talking to her was so easy it was almost frightening, almost like she was another member of his family. He wondered, with a trace of anxiety, whether she felt an inkling of the same thing. They seemed to be getting on great. They laughed and shared jokes. She even made a jab at his messy hair that he found himself responding without thinking to with a retort about her own that made her guffaw loudly into her palm. Was this what his life at Hogwarts was going to be like?

They reached the massive double doors at the top of the stairs, but there was no sign of the rest of the first years.

"Dammit, where is everyone?" he asked.

Amy opened the door a sliver to peak through, "Oooh, everyone's inside already, I think we took too long getting up here."

Oh no, that was just what he needed - to turn up to the sorting late and make a big deal of things.

"C'mon," Amy whispered, "No one will notice if we just slip in."

She opened the door before he could voice any objection, leaving Albus to grudgingly follow behind.

If it weren't for the multitude of heads that had turned their way, Albus was sure he would have been awe struck by the grandness of the Great Hall. As it was he felt nothing but uncomfortable under the gazes of half the hall as they slinked over the join the back of the amassed first years in the middle of the hall. They were gathered in front of what looked like a mouldy old hat. He saw Rose poking her head out the huddle, her stern face speaking clearly. _What took you so long?_

And there it was, without fail. The whispers.

"Who's the late kid?"

"Is that him?"

"…looks skinnier than I thought he would."

"Albus Potter…"

"…Potter…"

"James told me…"

"…turning up late to make an entrance. Just what…"

The students at the tables were keeping their voices low so that Albus was only able to hear vague muttering, no one looking to disturb the Headmaster's speech. And for good reason as he looked like a man who did not take interruption lightly. He was a tall, broad shouldered and humourless looking man, with short cropped black hair and a thick moustache. He looked more like a military general from one of Teddy's war movies than a headmaster.

"And furthermore," he droned, "The restricted section in the library has a number of new security measures put in place to stem the increase in unwanted snooping. If I find that Madam Pomfrey has had to treat any students glowing yellow and talking backwards then severe punishments will…"

Scurrying forward, Albus and Amy reached the rest of the crowded first years, all huddled together and waiting nervously to be sorted. Amy looked back at him once they were safe in the company of the others. Undoubtedly, she had heard the whispers just as he had. Her expression was hard to read. What was it in her gaze; suspicion, betrayal, or just Albus' own paranoia?

"What are you famous or something?" she whispered lowly.

Goddammit… Well it was good while it lasted.

"Ahh, not exactly," he whispered back, feeling his cheeks going red, "It's more like my family is famous. My father… well, he kinda saved the country a while back…"

"Oh," was all she said. Again she fell back into silence, and Albus' paranoia and his discomfort of the situation caused his poor mind to race with what she might be thinking. Was she upset that he tried to hide it from her? Was she already writing him off that someone who couldn't be trusted? Was she now thinking how she could use him? Maybe, just maybe, was she perhaps just a little bit impressed…?

Albus Potter. Albus bloody Potter. Potter Potter Potter. Hogwarts was supposed to be a fresh start, something of his own. Where had this feeling of guilt come from?

"I didn't want to say anything," he blurted out, "I didn't want to make a big deal out of it."

I didn't want you to look at me differently. I wanted you to think I was ordinary.

Impossibly, Amy gave a shrug.

"It's cool," she whispered conspiratorially, "My uncle was on a car insurance advert. I know how it is." Again she smiled, not noticing Albus' bewildered face.

And just like that, they were past it.

"Wait... You - What?"

"ABINOAM, REGINALD!"

Any floundering Albus might have been lost in was lost in the excited buzz of the hall as a chubby, freckled boy nervously stepped out of the crowd.

The sorting had begun.

XXXXX

Later that night, Albus would lie awake in bed staring up at the canopy, having just introduced himself to a half asleep boy getting into the bed across from his, who had muttered "Cool" without looking up before murmuring "Keegan" sleepily from behind his curtain. Before long his snores would be joined by the rest of the room, leaving Albus the only one awake.

He would lie awake he would think about where he had gone wrong in his sorting.

His fears had come true. The Sorting Hat had told him he was best suited for Slytherin after all, but he had chosen Gryffindor as the same. He had told himself it didn't matter where he went. His father had told him the same thing. He knew Slytherin was where he belonged, but he couldn't do it in the end.

Where did it all go wrong?

After a few uncomfortable minutes of internal debate, he would let himself lie back and fall into an uneasy sleep, having decided that it was the moment everyone had started murmuring his name as he entered the hall that had sealed his fate. Albus Potter, the son of Harry Potter, a Gryffindor for sure. No room for doubt, no chance of a different fate. No chance for a different choice. Expectation, alienation, all the stuff that weighed on him day in, day out.

What Albus Potter did not take into account that night, in all his worry and disappointment, was how crestfallen he had felt when miss Adler, Amy had hopped up grinning from the stool, the Gryffindor table cheering her over, and beamed happily at him as she passed. How troubled and deflated he felt then, watching her walk across to that table. And knowing then that even though they could probably still remain friends. And that a few minutes of walking up some stairs really wasn't long enough to get to know someone that well, the dungeons of Slytherin would just be too far away from the high tower of the Gryffindors.

Much too far away.

Albus had never been someone who thought things over with a clear head. But he couldn't have known what would have happened if he had given the issue just a little more thought that night. If he had just looked past his own doubts and insecurities. A little less fixation, a little more insight, and a lot of anguish would have been spared in the years to come. For both Albus and the girl.

But it was not.

XXXXX

"Report!"

The Wing zipped through the open window and hopped off his broom, wobbling unsteadily for a moment, "It's becoming a mess out there sir," he said shakily.

That was an understatement.

Harry looked out at the gradually devolving scene stretched out before him. He ignored the frantic sounds of scrambling men and woman behind him. Runners and assistants stumbled back and forth relaying messages and orders, trying to impose some semblance of order to the madness below.

The scene below looked drastically different from thirty minutes ago. Teams of Aurors could be seen running through the streets, dogged from multiple sides at once and fighting fiercely to keep the distance between themselves and the Inferi that poured over the crumbling buildings. The light from dozens of different spells lit up the town in a psychedelic display of dazzling light, sending echoes of colour out into the dark clouds and thick rain. Here and there, houses toppled apart from unseen forces, spilling brick and stone out onto the streets as dim figures darted back and forth from building to building. High above, Wings rained down spells and swept down in spectacular dives to pull stranded Aurors off the streets, all while struggling to maintain some measure of formation. Off by the houses closest to the sea a fire was spreading across two buildings where an Auror had been over zealous or just panicked. Or overrun.

All the reports he had received so far had told him the same thing, the Inferi were overrunning the town. But that wasn't the main problem. No, teams had been disappearing, leaving gaps in formation where Inferi spilled through. As if organising a mission on this scale wasn't enough of a logistical nightmare.

And what was worse, no one had been able to give him a good explanation why. The few times another team had been able to investigate they had found either bodies torn apart by Inferi or no bodies at all. But that was all wrong. These men were professionals, elite. It would have taken more than Inferi to bring down a squad before they could signal for help.

Something was wrong out there. Very wrong.

"I can see that it's a mess," he growled to the Auror, "What's happening down there?"

"Well… it's hard to say sir, the chatter we've been picked up is… a bit muddled."

Harry's patience had dried up ten minutes ago. "Spit it out man, what's down there besides Inferi?"

The Auror swallowed, "Wells that's just it sir, as far as we can tell… Well, _everything_ is down there."

Harry's brain took a moment to dismiss the young man as an idiot, before his mouth managed to catch up to the absurdity of what he just heard. "What?"

Again the Auror looked back over the town. There was a panicked look in his eye Harry didn't like the look of; like the look of a man who was wondering what the penalty for running would be. "Well sir, we've had numerous reports of dark creatures from different teams. But the reports keep changing. We've had sightings of Werewolves, Acromantulas, Cockatrices, Wanderbans…" his throat wobbled, "Even _Lethifolds…_ But as far as we can tell all the reports couldn't be verified, it's like the creatures just disappear before we can get to them, leaving only… the bodies…"

"Maybe they're apparitions. Illusions. Tricks designed to distract the men from the Inferi. That seems like the thing Noctis would do if he wanted to compromise our teams."

"Sorry sir," the Auror said with a shake of his head, "But these weren't apparitions. Wounds were given and accounted for. I- I saw a man go down to a Baba Yaga myself. Saw it with my own eyes… just… plucked him right out of the air."

"Dammit," Harry muttered. This wasn't something you could plan for. All Harry could do was come up with a new course of action, and fast. If they were able to harm and kill then they couldn't be some kind of illusion. Couldn't be boggarts either, not with this many people in one place. No, this was worse than he had thought.

And once again he felt it, tugging at the edges of his gut. That impulse to dive in, to take the fight head on, to get into in the thick of it. He got it from time to time, on ops that required him to stay out the fighting and lead from behind, the need to get in and get his hands dirty. He hated having to sit at the back, where it was safe, and watch and give orders when down in the chaos below good men were fighting for their lives. He only had to -

No. He was here to do a job, and Harry would be damned if he was going to screw it up just because he got itchy.

"Send out a retreat order," he said to the staff gathered behind him, "Order out manoeuvres to get them far back enough that they can regroup at the edge of town. And make sure nobody rushes it, I don't want anyone caught out and left behind." The muggles had been evacuated; there was no longer a need to hold ground. Now was the time to fall back to a workable distance and reassess the situation in the town.

"What shall I tell Captain Liddling?" The Auror asked, "Do you want the Wings to…" He stopped mid sentence, pointing to one of the houses at the edge of the town, "Is that Captain Finch-Fletchley?"

Harry turned to where the man was pointing, squinting his eyes. He saw a man running from the houses back up the hill where the HQ sat. It was hard to see clearly through the rain, but he did look an awful lot like Justin.

"What the hell?"

He tapped his wand to his glasses and the Ominum enhancement kicked in, letting him see Justin up close. With this view Harry could clearly see his face, and he saw it was white with terror, his eyes bulging out the sockets as he raced up the hill. He seemed to be panting something under his breath. Though he couldn't be sure Harry thought it looked like he was gasping "No, no, no, no" over and over as he ran.

"Merlin's beard..." The Auror breathed.

"What?" Harry asked, tapping his glasses again to dispel the charm. Then he heard one of the assistants scream.

And he saw it.

Crashing through the house after Captain Finch-Fletchley was a monstrous snake, racing after him at an impossible speed.

No. Not just a snake. It was too big.

A basilisk.

"You've got to be kidding," Harry groaned, averting his gaze. "Don't look directly at it!" he shouted, already seeing Headquarters staff that were too slow dropping on the spot.

Stepping up to the window, Harry started tracing his wand through the air as fast as he dared. His heart was racing. He had to stop it before it reached the house, or at least slow it down. A Protego Obscura should work against something that size while letting Justin through if he calibrated it just right. But one wrong move and the whole thing could blow up in his face.

He hissed the incantation under his breath, keeping the figures of Justin and the basilisk in his peripherals. They were getting close. Just a few seconds more…

Harry's attention was stolen by another figure, halfway up the hill. One he hadn't seen before. Black hooded, cloak flapping in the gale, face obscured, raising his wand. Pointing it…

Pointing it at Harry.

Oh, this day was not going his way _at all_.

He barely managed to throw himself back in time as the world exploded in a blast of orange light. The blast threw him against the opposite wall. His back slammed against the plaster like he had been hit by a bus, driving all the air out his lungs as he heard the back of his head crack against the wall…

And he was back in the Potter house. Ginny was already up, making breakfast for the kids. He was in bed, wrapped in the comfort and warmth of the blankets. His head felt fuzzy. He knew he should get up, Lily had been pestering him to teach her to ride a broomstick. But he couldn't move he was so tired. So very tired. He tried to move, but the covers were too heavy. Too heavy and too warm.

The bed fell away to darkness, leaving Harry falling softly, like a feather. He let himself drift, aware of nothing but his own fall. Nothing mattered. He could lie still and fall forever. Falling and falling and falling and…

Darkness. Dizziness. Where was he? Somebody was screaming. What was happening? Where was that ringing coming from? And why did his head hurt so much? He was lying on a hard wooden floor. Everything hurt. Had he been hit by a car - again? What was going on?

He opened his eyes a sliver, sending a lance of pain through his frontal lobe. The room was swimming, but he could make out the debris that littered it. Squinting up as the smoking outline of a man stumbled past him he saw a massive crumbling hole on the other side of the room where a wall should have been. Through it he could make out an ocean, stormy and grim looking. That's right. He was in Cliffcoat. There had been... some kind of attack. It was all muddled. A Snake… A hooded figure…

He leapt to his feet, lurching sideways and nearly falling over. He held out his hand against the wall to steady himself, his hand fumbling for his wand before he realised it wasn't in his pocket. He glanced around the room for it. It looked like a bomb had gone off. Half the wall was gone and the rest was a burning, crumbling mess. Several bodies lay motionless here and there. Dirt specked faces staring up at nothing. Among them, Harry could see some people stirring on the floor.

He looked down at himself, checking to see if he was hurt. Everything was sore, his eyebrow was bleeding, and his robes were charred black, but as far as he could tell everything was where it should be. A weak moan floated up from the floor next to him, and he looked down to see the Wing who had given him the report roll onto his side. He was burnt all over, his face and chest blackened and foul smelling.

"Shit," Harry muttered as knelt down to check on the man, but there was nothing he could do for him right now. He didn't have a wand, and someone had just attacked them. Right now he was defenceless. And where was the basilisk? It should have been tearing into the house already.

A loud crack caused Harry's head to snap up. Standing silhouetted in the hole where the wall was supposed to be was the cloaked and hooded figure he had seen down on the hill. The wind whipped the edges of his cloak back and forth, but his face remained hidden under the darkness of the hood. He didn't look very big, now that Harry could see him up close, but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. As discreetly as possible, Harry patted the pockets of the groaning Wing for a wand. Dammit. Nothing. But the figure still didn't move to attack. He just stood there motionless, watching him…

"Who are you?" Harry asked. He had to stall for time as he traced the floor around him with his hands.

No answer.

"What are you here for?"

Nothing.

Ok, how about something a little simpler?

"How did you get past the anti-apparition wards? You snuck right up on us."

Silence.

"… And what happened to the bloody snake?"

It might have been his imagination, but Harry thought he saw a smile inside the darkness of that hood. Then as if in answer the figure raised his wand. Harry leapt aside with a grunt, getting a smouldering dresser between himself and his attacker. But no curse came. He glanced out from beside it. What was this guy playing at?

"Oh, bloody hell…"

The man had not fired off a curse. No, that would have been too simple. Standing in front of the hooded figure were six hunched over corpses; foul smelling and dripping wet. Their dead eyes turned towards him. Inferi.

So it seemed Harry was being given a chance. Or maybe he was just being toyed with. And how had they just appeared out of nowhere? Either way there wasn't much time for him to think, as the closest one leapt at him with a howl. Without thinking Harry punched it in the face, dropping it to the floor. This wasn't the first time in his career he had had to get up close, and his training gave him a distinct advantage over a shambling corpse.

Still, he limbs were screaming in protest. His head was fuzzy and he was pretty sure he had pulled a muscle in his back. One Inferi would have been a hassle. Six?

He roared violently as he charged into the next one, catching it just under the jaw with his shoulder and lifting it off its feet. They both crashed into the one behind it and toppled to the floor. Harry rolled as he fell and came to his feet in a crouch. He made to lunge at the next Inferi but before he could another tackled him to the ground. He thrashed about on the dusty wooden floor like a madman, kicking and snarling at the Inferi that tore savagely at him, trying to keep the other two from getting a good grip on him. He grabbed the side of a mouldy face in a fierce grip and smashed it into the floor. There was a wet crack of breaking wood, but before he could move another Inferi leant down to grab a fistful of his robes, its face torn in a snarl. He kicked out its knee and sent it toppling onto its side. Lashing out with his elbow he caught the other one in the rib as it hunched down to tear at him. No time for technique. Not now. No fancy moves, just brute violence would work here. He felt a hot slick of pain across his back as the Inferi tore at him. Shredding through cloth and skin. He spun around and caught it in the temple with his fist. It dropped, but the others were already back up and lunging at him. He staggered backwards, trying to keep his footing amongst the bodies scattered across the floor. The closest Inferi leapt for his throat and he fell back and kicked it over him as he rolled across the floor. He was back on his feet again and fell back across the room, trying to keep from getting cornered.

Twice more he was tackled to the ground, and both times he was sure that was the end of it. But somehow he tore free each time, breaking dead bones and tearing rotting flesh with an animalistic snarl. He managed to kick two down the stairs, but that only bought him a few moments brief respite before they scrambled back up. He even drove the head of one straight into the corner of the dresser he had hidden behind, but it didn't matter. No matter what he did, they wouldn't stay down. He wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer. Fighting Inferi by hand was almost suicide, they would just keep coming. He only needed to find a –

There! Sticking out the wrist holster of one of the bodies was a wand. Just what he needed. He dived out the way just as the next two Inferi grabbed for him. His side went numb as he landed hard, but there was no time for complaints. He felt thin wood between his fingers.

He whipped himself round and came up face to face with a howling Inferi not three feet away. Its mouth was torn open in an unearthly shriek. With a thought the creature's head burst apart as a bolt of fire leapt from the wand and sent it flying back across the room.

Much better.

He blasted back the next one as it dived for him sending it falling to the floor as a smouldering heap. He allowed himself to gain his bearings. The cloaked figure hadn't moved from the open wall. He remained stood in place, watching. Harry whipped the wand at the next Inferi, sending it flying back against the wall next to the other three. He couldn't be reckless with fire spells here. Not with so many wounded lying around the room.

Time to get involved, coward.

"Typhonus Descanta!" he said, sweeping his wand towards the hooded figure. The four remaining Inferi were all yanked off their feet as if pulled by invisible chords tied around their waists and flew towards the gap in the wall. With impressive speed, the stranger swiped his wand and vanished in a flash of blue light. Harry had expected that though, and as the Inferi were thrown from the house and scattered along the hill he was already turning around, looking for –

"Stupefy!" he shouted, and the hooded figure vanished again with another swish of his wand. Harry spun around again. There, in the corner, wand already raised. No time for words. Harry's next stunner was wordless. It shot out and exploded against the wall. The figure dodged it, but barely. Another stunner, ducked by an inch. Another swish. Another crack of blue light. Merlin, he was fast.

He kept the dance up for a while. How long for was impossible to say. Time seemed to slow as Harry brought his wand to bear again and again, not giving the figure time to respond. The sharp crack of his movements echoed around the room. Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

"Obtustupefy!" A shower of red bolts erupted from Harry's wand and swept wide over the far corner of the room, where his foe was just appearing in another blue flash. If it was possible for a shrouded hood to look shocked, then that's what Harry saw as the figure turned to see the wave of red rushing towards him.

Got you.

The corner of the room exploded in red light. But Harry kept his wand trained on the spot. No surprises this time.

Surely enough the figure was still on his feet. Head bowed to the floor, free hand raised with the gloved palm facing outwards. Just like Noctis had been at the Ministry building. A Protego.

"Impressive," Harry admitted, "Stupefy!"

The stunner rocked against the shield, driving the figure to one knee. The faint circle of the shield spell visibly buckled, but still held. Not as strong as Noctis' then.

"Stupefy!"

The figure swayed back and dropped to both knees, panting ragged breaths beneath the hood. The shield frayed at the seams.

"Stupefy!"

The man was thrown backwards as the shield crumpled. He slid across the floor before hitting the frozen body of a dead assistant. Time to finish this.

"Stupef -"

A swish of the wand. So fast.

There was another crack behind Harry. Before he could react he was struck by what felt like a bludger and carried across the room. He hit the top of the staircase and tumbled down in a shower of broken wood. Something gripped him fiercely from behind. Pain racked his body. His mind went cloudy for a second time as his head struck the floor. Whatever it was had him in a death grip, and a strong one too. Whatever it- Oh no. Oh God no.

He already knew exactly what it was.

He felt cold.

He felt a cold he hadn't felt in years. Deep down in his bones.

Far away, as though from a great distance, Harry could hear a woman screaming.

XXXXX

"Captain Weasely sir!"

"What!" Ron snapped at the grim faced Wing that had just flown down. He was in a rotten mood. He was covered in cuts from head to foot, he and his squad had barely escaped a couple of vicious Acromantulas by collapsing the house they were all in. He had a concussion from the collapse, he had Inferi swarming from every direction, he was soaked through to the bone and to top it off he had just stubbed his big toe on somebody's crushed BMW.

"Sir, the HQ!"

"What about it?" he growled, shooting a jet of fire into a cluster of Inferi that were swarming out of a nearby alleyway. All about them men where fighting tooth and nail in the streets, taking and losing ground to the foul creatures with each passing minute.

"Just look sir!"

He wheeled around, his face going red with anger, "Goddamit mate can't you see I'm a little… Oh… Oh shit."

Up on the hill overlooking the town, the tall, proud house they had taken over for the Headquarters had been gutted. The wall that faced the village was all but gone. The roof looked like it had been torn apart by an angry giant. Parts of the wall that were still standing were smouldering in the pouring rain, sending out plumes of smoke into the dark grey sky. The blaze of the flames struck out an angry orange against the dark sky. All in all it looked like someone had set off a bomb next to it.

"Harry," he breathed.

XXXXX

The dementor held him fast against the cold stone floor, but for all the strength in his limbs it might as well have been pinning him down with one hand. The wand he had picked up was gone. The horrible, creeping cold of the thing seeped through his body and drained him of strength. His head was ringing again from the fall down the stairs, but even so he could hear her. It had been so long he had almost forgotten.

"No! Not Harry! Please, not Harry!"

His mother, begging Voldemort not to kill him. The night his parents died. It had been years since he had heard it, a demon from his past he thought he had long since vanquished, but it came back now with a vengeance. It ripped at his guts, leaving him feeling empty and sick. It was partly because it had been so long since he had heard it, but Harry suspected it was mostly because there was another voice as well. A new voice he had not been expecting to hear.

"Oh no no… Oh God please no! Not Albus! Oh please not my son!"

It was Ginny. The night they had found Albus in the Great Hall. She had apparated into St. Mungo's and had rushed into the room they were keeping him. She had taken one looked at his lifeless body and crumbled in Harry's arms, begging something – anything - from everyone and no one. Another mother, begging for the life of her son. Begging without the hope of an answer. Had so little changed? Had he done so little to make a better life for his children, to spare them from what he went through?

And they were not alone. There were other voices too. Memories played back through his mind like a Pensieve. He was living them out once again. Deaths and mistakes, friends and family. A lifetime of pain and suffering coming back to wash over him, building and building until he was drowning.

The dementor gripped his shoulder and slammed him against the floor, but he barely felt it. Unusual, he thought absently, for a dementor to be so violent. They weren't usually such brutal creatures. They viewed people as food, not as playthings to be savaged. Something was off here.

But it didn't matter. He wouldn't last much longer anyway. The dementor bent down low, its foul faceless head coming closer and closer to Harry. He turned away from it, facing out the partially destroyed wall and out over the town. He could see several columns of smoke rising from the houses. The rain continued to lash down. Cold. Uncaring. Any second now it would come. The Dementor's Kiss.

Something still niggled at him, in the farthest back of his mind, but he still couldn't place it. Ron was still out there, he thought over the screams and the wailing and the cold whispers that were so much worse than both. Harry wondered if he was doing any better. Poor guy, out there with Acromantulas and all. Rotten luck.

Rotten luck for them both really.

Still niggling.

And his Aurors. He hoped they managed to make it through this. Such a shame he had to leave them like this. Who would have thought it? Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, dead in the first attack of a new war. After everything he had gone through to win the first one.

He couldn't put his finger on it. What was it that was bothering him?

And Justin, that poor bastard. What had happened to him? Last he saw he was being chased by that basilisk. What happened to the two of them actually? It's not easy to lose track of a snake that big. Awful way to go though. Especially for Justin too, given what he went through at Hogwarts…

Still niggling.

Something was off.

Something was very off.

What was it?

The dementor came closer. He could smell the foul breath of the thing. Feel the clammy cold of its hand as it gripped his face. His head swam with images and voices. Soon it would end, and he wouldn't have to hear them, see them any more. God he hated dementors though. Why, of all the things Harry had to get killed off by, it had to be the one thing that he…

That he…

There it was. How had he not seen it before?

Potter you idiot.

The empty, horrible face of the dementor was barely an inch away. Harry reached for a wand, but it was no use. There was nothing within reach. Nothing but bodies. Maybe they had wands, but he couldn't reach them.

"_Are you a wizard or not?"_

Bloody hell he was on a roll today. Harry scrunched up his face with effort as he stretch out a desperate hand, thinking with all he had left on one little word.

Accio. Accio.

_Accio_.

He felt the soft wood of a wand slide into his hand. He brought it round so it was pointing under the chest of the dementor. He didn't have enough left in him for an Expecto Patronum, not by a long shot. But he didn't need to. He only needed one simple charm…

An unseen wind blew up from beneath the two of them, lifting the dementor up onto its scabbed feet. At once Harry felt the dread cold lifting off him, and he scrambled back, gasping for air. In the centre of the room, the dementor was struggling to get its bearings. Harry shuffled backwards, feeling warmer with every inch until his back thumped against the wall. The impossible wind continued to blow, making the dementor sway back and forth and sending its cloak flying this way and that. Then all at once the wind shifted. A fierce upwards draft blew up from beneath the creature, lifting its cloaks and revealing bright red, heart-chequered underwear.

"Heh," Harry coughed as the dementor tried to flap down its cloak. He lifted himself onto one knee with a sore chuckle coming from deep inside his ragged throat. God, he was sore all over.

The dementor was now trying to hold down its cloak but was doing a startling impression of Marylyn Monroe in the process. Harry's chuckle fell away to a low laugh, he couldn't help himself. It built inside his chest as he picked himself up onto his feet. Building and building into full throated laughter, until he was cackling away like an idiot at the struggling dementor in front of him.

He waved his wand and the wind died away, leaving the bewildered dementor looking up at him.

"Riddikulus. Asshole."

And with a last stab of his wand the boggart exploded into a hundred wisps of smoke.

XXXXX

Harry and Ron looked out at the street as Aurors bustled past. A medic was feeding Harry potions as he sat on the crumbled wall that remained of a house. People called out orders and names, checked things off lists, tidied away the mess that the day had been. Here and there, the burning remains of Inferi were being put out a piled into massive black crates. For examination or disposal, Harry wasn't too sure, and right now he was having a hard time working up the energy to care.

"Boggarts eh?"

"Boggarts."

Every inch of him hurt, from his toes to the ends of his hair. Ron didn't look a whole lot better. His robes were torn and frayed, and the side of his face was caked in dried blood. Harry didn't want to know what he looked like.

"But I thought boggarts had trouble dealing with large groups." Ron said, "I mean, these things were taking on entire squads and they managed to keep it together enough that we had no idea they weren't the real thing."

"My God Ron," Harry said flatly, "You actually learned something in all our time at Hogwarts."

"Yeah well," Ron picked up a pebble and absently tossed it away, "I just wish I had learned to wear a helmet. I swear, this headache is killing me."

"Take an explosion in the face, then get knocked down some stairs and get back to me mate."

"A _house_," Ron said indignantly, "An entire sodding _house_. That tops a little tumble down some steps any day. Have you ever had a house fall on you before?"

"Anyway," Harry pressed on, "These boggarts were clearly different somehow. And I mean not just their ability to work against multiple targets but their ferocity as well. These things actively sought people out in open areas and attacked to kill. That's not something they've ever been known to do before. Not to mention the fact that they seemed to be coordinated..."

"Yeah I know. What a nightmare to add on top of a bloody army of Inferi. It's a good thing you figured it out when you did. Without your update I don't know if we would've been able to hold out."

"Well once you take away the big scary monsters all you're really left with are an uncoordinated mass of angry corpses."

"Right, 'cos there's nothing scary about that at all," Ron rolled his eyes. "Still though, I'm sure glad that's done with. No sign of our two friends then?"

"None. By the time I got back upstairs the hooded figure had vanished."

"That's been bothering me as well actually. How did this guy get into the HQ unseen? You said they seemed to apparate around the room as you were fighting. How'd they pull that off?"

Harry knocked back the last bottle of potion with a grimace. Damn thing tasted like feet. He waved the medic off with his thanks before turning back to Ron, a dour look on his face.

"Portkeys."

"Portkeys?"

"Portkeys."

Ron didn't look convinced. "But that's impossible, the anti-apparition wards we set up also disable out any Portkeys within the boundaries for as long as the spell is active."

But Harry had seen it with his own eyes. He had played back his memory of that fight a dozen times in the last hour, hoping for some clue as to the identity of his mystery attacker. He hadn't noticed at the time, but looking back he was sure he saw something darting at the hooded man each time he swiped his wand. That flash of blue. There was nothing else it could have been. Portkeys, he would have bet his wand on it. As for Ron's objection…

"Unless whoever this guys is was able to create them after the wards are in place."

That did nothing to ease his old friend's scepticism. If anything, Ron looked more confused.

"But you said that they used them…"

"Over a dozen times that I saw"

"But that's impossible. Portkeys take time to create, and each have to be tailored to a specific location. And to set up multiple landing sites within a single room… That you're _fighting in_… That's ridiculous."

"Well, it looks like whoever our mystery man was they managed to work it out."

Ron gave him a long look, and Harry returned it. He knew what he saw. And Ron knew he wasn't a complete idiot. After a moment, Ron just breathed out heavily.

"That's some impressive work to pull on the fly."

"Yes it is." That wasn't all that was bothering him, "But that's not what's worrying me about this guy."

"It's not? It's worrying me."

Harry frowned off at nothing, "He didn't move to attack me himself. Not once he was inside the house." Harry was thinking the first spell, the one that had so disastrously disrupted his Protego Obscura. It was just a way in, not an attack, something to put Harry and the HQ down so they could get closer. "He just set the Inferi on me. There was a half dozen times he could have cursed me while he was at it. I didn't even have a wand until the end. And even then he just avoided my spells until he had no choice but to use the boggart." He sighed heavily. He was tired. All he wanted was a long bath and to crawl into bed with Ginny. "I have no idea what to make of it Ron."

Ron ruffled the rainwater out of his bright red hair again. At least the rain was starting to let off. "Ugh, this day's getting worse and worse."

"Yes it is." Harry paused for a moment, "And another thing I don't get is why Noctis came here at all. Coming for the Inferi I can make heads and tails of. But the way he did it is what's getting me. I mean, he even announced himself to whole bloody town."

They sat in silence as Harry thought it over, but no answers were forthcoming. All around them Aurors and clean up crews were sweeping the streets; clearing away debris, putting out fires and tending the wounded.

"He wanted us to be here." Harry said suddenly.

A distraction? Had Harry just been lured out here with almost the entire Auror Division so that Noctis could put plans in motion while they were away. It was a chilling thought, and one that seemed more likely the more he thought about it. Could they have been so blind? So blind and so heavy handed. Could Noctis have known the Minister would be so shaken by the thought of a new Dark Lord that they would bring the entire might of the Ministry to bear the second he popped his head out? Had he planned for it? Was that the reason for such a dramatic reveal on the steps of the Ministry itself?

Harry called for Kingsway, who was down the street in the middle of a roundabout, directing cleaning crews. He barely heard Ron asking him what he was doing.

It seemed like the logical deduction, but even so there was something else. Harry couldn't shake the lingering cold sensation of the dementor bearing down on him. His worst memories playing themselves over and over in his mind. The screams of his parents in their last moments; Harry's own voice bellowing in denial as Sirius fell through the veil; the scene underneath the Necromancer's shack in Orkney, the sight of the stolen girls and the foul tools that still woke Harry up some nights; the pained whimpering of Nighbly as Harry lied to him, telling him he would make it and knowing he wouldn't; Ginny's heartbreaking wailing after seeing Albus' lifeless form…

The hooded figure, watching him from the ruin in the wall. Not attacking, not directly. Just watching. Harry couldn't shake the awful feeling that Noctis had arranged this whole thing just as a test for him, to see what he was capable of.

Or to see what he was most afraid of.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. It wouldn't do any good to obsess over what he didn't know for sure. It was best to play it safe.

"Get in touch with Navidson" he said to Kingsway as the man jogged up, "I want a thorough sweep organised of the entire Ministry building, and the same thing done with any sites with a Griffon class importance ranking or higher. Look out for anything that seems out of place or wasn't there the first time. I want any thefts in the last two hours to be reported to a superior, no matter how small. Someone needs to review any staff changes that occurred during the same time period as well. And get someone to compile a list of the all reported criminal activity in the last three hours. If this _was _a distraction to get us out of the city I want to know what we missed."

Beside him Ron had his face in his hands, groaning as Kingsway ran off.

"You just had to say it didn't you?" he said, throwing up his hands. He goggled his eyes and adopted a high pitch voice, "'_I almost wish something would happen_…'" He looked at Harry and shook his head, "Honestly Harry…"

It couldn't be denied. Harry had gotten his wish; Lord Noctis had made his move, and Harry didn't feel any better at all. They had won the day, but Harry just couldn't shake the horrible feeling they had played right into Lord Noctis' hands.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Okay, we're five chapters in and I have no idea if what I'm writing is liked of just hated by you guys. So please leave a review or a comment if there was something you liked or you hated or just something you want to comment on. Let me know if you want more of one thing or less of one thing. Telling me you like my shit encourages me to work faster; criticism (constructive though, not just abuse) encourages me to work better. So it's win win! **

**Now this took me way longer to get done that the others, even with the size taken into account. I blame it on a number of problems I've had this last month, but you're not here to listen to me whine. So we'll move on. **

**Even so I think I'm getting more of a hang of this writing lark, things just seem to be running better. Though I'll leave that for you to decide…**

**Be gentle.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	6. Chapter 6: Secrets In The Dark

It was the first day of classes, and the small group of Gryffindor first years bustled down the corridor in a hurry. There were about seven or eight of them, though Albus would have been hard pressed to say who each one was. They had only had one class together so far and were looking to be late getting to the next one.

"It's a bit harsh of Professor Wattlebon to let us out so late from Transfiguration," Amy puffed. Even as they jogged through the corridor she still hadn't managed to stop herself from making cheerful conversation. "I mean, is this some way of keeping students fit I don't know about? The dungeons are on the other side of the castle, how does she expect us to make it to Potions on time?"

"I heard in the common room that she had a falling out with Professor Slughorn over the summer," a dark skinned boy gasped. Kyle… Jordan, was it? Albus thought uncertainly. "Maybe she did it on purpose to mess with him?"

"I reckon it's a lover's quarrel," another boy said sagely. Keegan. Albus had met him last night.

One of the girls snorted, grabbing a stone railing for support as they went down a set of stairs. Dark haired. Albus had no idea who she was. "Right, and at breakfast you said that the house elves were conspiring to kill the Gryffindors."

Keegan looked at her, barely noticing the steps, "Were you seeing the same porridge I was?" he asked, "No food is supposed to look like that."

They reached the bottom of the stairway and ran along a corridor to the top of another one. They were definitely going to be late. "Actually," Rose panted, her face nearly as red as her hair, "The house elves use a special root only found in the Scottish highlands in some of their cooking… Blissbane… The porridge was supposed to sparkle."

At the back of the group a round-faced blonde boy - Butterbean, was it? Or Buttersby? - was lagging behind. "You made that up!"

"Did not!"

Amy leaned across, almost knocking heads with Albus as they ran. "House elves?" she muttered.

"Tell you in a minute," Albus wheezed. He was running out of breath, and a detailed explanation of house elf culture (and possibly the complicated morale implications that came up in most conversations involving them) was not something he could do right now. Even if he wasn't in serious danger of collapsing, Albus wasn't in a mood to chat. He hadn't slept well last night, and putting on his brand new Gryffindor robes this morning did nothing to help his bad humour.

He felt like a fake. A liar. He knew damn well that he wasn't supposed to be here, going to classes with these people. He was amazed they didn't see it to. Any minute he expected them to realise he wasn't one of them. That they should notice that he wasn't a Gryffindor. That Slytherin green would suit him so much better. He would be wearing those colours this morning if he wasn't such a damn coward.

For some reason, Amy seemed to have noticed that something was wrong with him.

"Are you alright?" she asked, keeping her voice low enough that only the two of them could hear.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been tense all morning. You barely ate any breakfast and you've haven't said more than twenty words since last night."

A pair of older Ravenclaws were running the other way, also late for their class. One of them accidentally knocked shoulders with the blonde kid at the back, sending him spinning in a circle and nearly dropping him to the floor. Buttersbridge. That was it.

"I'm fine," Albus grunted as they all paused to wait for Buttersbridge to catch up. They were at the top of another flight of stairs. The bottom of this one was noticeably darker. It was windowless at the bottom, and flaming torches lit the corridor beyond. They were nearly there. About them the other Gryffindors stopped and used the brief pause to get some wind back. Rose was the worst off, from what Albus could see. She was leaning heavily against the railing, her face a deep beetroot colour. The poor girl was never much for sports.

"Is it…?" Amy continued, leaning one hand against the wall as she caught her breath. Her white blond hair was streaked across her face. Albus waited for the rest of the question, but nothing came.

Is it the fact that I'm not really supposed to be in Gryffindor? The fact that I couldn't stand the thought of disappointing everybody's expectations so much that I begged the sorting hat to put me in the house I least belong in? The fact that my cowardice is the only reason I'm in the house of the brave; where my father and brother and family belong, but not me? Is it any of that?

That was just the problem. He was in Gryffindor now, with his brother, and his sister, and his cousin. Where Teddy and his father had gone before him. Things were expected of him now. Would he have to be popular like his brother? Head Boy like Teddy? A hero like his father? A quidditch star like all three?

Albus Potter was a coward. What the hell could he hope to accomplish?

"It's nothing," he said, forcing a smile. "I'm just a little nervous about my first day here." It wasn't a complete lie. And he didn't want her asking after him all day. He was troubled by being here sure, but that worry would still be there later, did he really need to deal with it now? After all it was his first day in Hogwarts. His great adventure. New friends, new people, a new life. He didn't have to ruin it by being a mopey git.

"Let's go," a ridiculously curly haired girl next to him said. Lysa, Albus thought, though he was in no way sure. Albus turned to see Buttersbridge hurrying up.

"C'mon," he said, eager to leave their brief conversation behind. And as Buttersbridge ran up they continued down the steps without waiting for a response. He didn't look back to see what Amy's face might have been.

The air felt cooler down here, and the chill was a welcome counter to the heat blazing over their bodies as they ran through the dimly lit hallways. It would be a wonder if they managed to make it to the room before someone collapsed. Albus didn't even know the way on his own, he just followed the group. A left, another left, a right, past the scary statue, another left.

As they turned the corner, Rose let out a sigh of relief. "This is it."

Up ahead was the classroom, and standing just outside it was -

Great. That was just what he needed right now.

Gathered outside the classroom door, were the Slytherin first years. His would-have-been housemates. Wearing their dark green robes and waiting to go in, they watched as the Gryffindors padded up to the door.

"Are we not going in?" Rose panted when they reached the door, hands on her knees.

A tall dark haired Slytherin boy looked at them with a bemused expression. "Professor Slughorn's late. The door's locked, so we figured we'd wait outside."

Albus heard a loud groan of annoyance behind him, and turned to see the Keegan boy fall back against the wall.

At the front of the group of Slytherins was a small boy. He was well dressed, and he had a sharp pointed face and bright blonde hair that gave no alternative to who he might be.

Scorpius Malfoy.

He was looking over the out of breath Gryffindors with an odd expression. It impossible to tell what he was thinking, but the sight of him made Albus feel even worse than before.

"_So that's little Scorpius. Make sure you beat him in every test Rosie."_

He had heard Uncle Ron say it to Rose as they boarded the train at Platform nine and three quarters. He was sure his uncle had been joking, but still... So this was the son of Draco Malfoy. The name had passed through his childhood stories a hundred times. School fights, rivalries, darker feuds when the war began and a conflicted resolution at the end of it. Albus would have been his classmate if he had chosen Slytherin. He would have been standing next to him in those green robes, watching the Gryffindors catching their breath. Standing opposite Amy. Opposite Rose.

"Wow," Scorpius said, looking at Rose, "You're really red."

From the sound of his voice it was clear he was mocking her. Rose looked shocked as her eyes flickered up, and her face reddened even further. She made a small noise and averted his gaze.

Something inside Albus snapped.

He pushed his way to the front of the group, where Scorpius was leering at Rose. So these were the Slytherins then. This was what he was supposed to be?

No. He was a Potter. Albus Potter. And there was one thing everyone knew about Potters.

"Oh really?" he said in mocking voice that sounded too loud to his own ears, "Well, you look like a skinny little canary, Malfoy. So how about you take your bony little chin and your piss yellow hair and bugger off?" He barely knew what he was saying. A rush of adrenalin surged through him, making it hard to think.

Behind him, he heard some of the Gryffindors laughing. One or two of the Slytherins gave a small chuckle as well. Scorpius however looked like he had been slapped. He stared at Albus as if he wasn't sure what or who he was looking at.

He recovered quickly though. He drew himself up to full height, which brought him up to eye level with Albus, pulling his robes about him regally.

"So you're Albus Potter," he said in a voice dripping with scorn, "You're just what I expected you to be. Pompous, arrogant, all puffed up with your own ego because of who your family is."

His words hit a nerve. What the hell did this Scorpius know about him? Who was he to judge Albus at first glance?

"That's right," Albus sneered, a nasty grin on his face, "I'm a Potter. And I'm proud of my family. I really don't think you can same thing, can you _Malfoy_?"

A small part of him felt terrible for doing it, ripping into this Scorpius' family shame in front of the rest of the class. But the rest of him, a bigger, louder, angrier part was enjoying this too much to stop now. Besides, Scorpius was the one who started it.

The boy's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You're riding the backs of your father and your brother to make yourself look like a big man, Potter," he spat. "But what've you done that's so great? What are you without your brother and your father to help you?"

Albus barely noticed his hand reaching into his pocket. His heart was hammering in his chest. "I can handle myself well enough Malfoy."

Scorpius' eyes widened, and Albus saw several Slytherin's start with surprise behind him. It took him a second to realise he had drawn his wand. In a flash Scorpius had drawn his own, and Albus heard the sounds of scrambling as the other students pulled away from them.

All at once he realised things might have escalated further than he had intended, and there didn't seem to be anywhere they could go but up. He felt trapped and surprisingly afraid. He really hadn't wanted things to resort to this but he couldn't see a way out. James had taught him a few hexes well enough, but what if they were caught duelling in the corridors? On their first day as well! Things were spiralling out of control, but he couldn't back down. It was difficult to think clearly.

Neither of them made a move to cast a hex. Both of them were waiting on the other. At least, that's what Albus was doing. He found that he had no intention of being the one to strike first, desperately looking for a way out of this.

After a moment, Scorpius' face split into a sneer of his own. "What's the matter Potter? Afraid to step up when it's just you on your own?"

Something might have shown on Albus face, because Scorpius smiled even wider. "I had you figured for a coward."

_Coward?_

"Just wanted to make sure we're not going to be using Unforgivables, _Malfoy_." Again he put emphasis on the surname, "I mean, it would be a shame for you to be sent to Azkaban after all the work your family put into buying themselves out."

All the excited chatter around them died down to a hush. Albus saw the knuckles on Scorpius' wand hand were white he was gripping the wood so hard. He raised his wand so it was pointing directly at Albus' face. He heard people scrambling out of the way behind him as he raised his own wand up. He had no idea what to do.

Malfoy's voice was a hiss. "Say that again, Potter."

Well bollocks. It looked like he would be duelling in the corridors on his first day after all. Albus wondered if he would be expelled or just put in a month's detention…

"I said -"

"Sorry I'm late everyone!" Professor Slughorn came bounding down the corridor, looking extremely spry for a man of his age. "I was having a chat with Professor Longbottom about his Coughing Cabbages and only realised it was time for class when his students turned up at the door!" He walked past the silent students, smiling jovially. "No matter, though. What's a few minutes waiting out in the hallway to such young – Why, Mister Potter. Why is your wand out?"

Albus followed the elderly man's puzzled gaze and saw his wand was still in his hand. Looking around him he saw that Malfoy had slipped his back into his robes, and was now glaring daggers at Albus safely among his Slytherin housemates.

"Um…" Albus said. Feeling a bizarre rush of dismay and relief at the Potion Master's arrival. No duel then. His nerves were only just starting to settle, and he could still feel the blood rushing through him. That had been so close. Now there was just the problem of having no idea how to explain himself. "I…"

"Eager to start, eh?" the walrus looking man chuckled, "Just like your father. A gifted poitioneer if I've ever seen one. And I've seen more than a few I can tell you! Taught most of them right here in this castle! Just ask Wendell Pocock who taught her her first Bubblebreather Solution." Again he chuckled cheerfully. "Anyway you won't be needing your wands in my class boy, so put that away and let's all head in shall we?"

He bustled forward and in through the door. The Slytherins trailed in after him. Scorpius fixed Albus with a glare before following in. Albus returned it evenly. He wasn't going to back down from that blonde little tosser. Not now. Not ever.

He turned back to Rose, expecting a grateful smile for standing for up for her. But Rose was only staring at her feet, clutching her books close to her chest. Her face, if possible, was even redder than before as she hurried into the classroom.

The other Gryffindors, however, were babbling excitedly as they milled into the classroom, slapping him on the back and whispering congratulations and encouragements.

"My dad's gonna have a right laugh when he hears about this," Kyle chuckled, slapping Albus on the shoulder.

"Sit behind him when you get into the classroom," Keegan suggested under his breath as he slipped past, "That way you can hex him and he won't be able to do anything back without Slughorn seeing."

Albus smiled as they mulled past him, feeling good for the first time that day. All of a sudden he didn't feel like such a coward after all. He had protected Rose from Malfoy, and stood up to him when things had been looking like they might turn ugly. Was this what it felt like to be a Potter?

The last Gryffindor in the line passed through the door. It was the dark haired girl, who smiled prettily and said "Nice one Potter" making his cheeks heat up despite himself. Then Albus caught sight of Amy at the end of the line, and the elation he was feeling took a dive when he saw her face.

She wasn't smiling. Not laughing or looking encouraging like the rest, like he had expected her to. He realised then that he even had a vague hope that she might have been a little impressed with him.

But if she was impressed he didn't see any sign of it on her face. What he saw was something else. Something sad, perhaps a little scared, but above all, shocked. This is not the boy I met last night, her face said.

And what Albus saw of this new boy, reflected on her face, he did not like at all.

* * *

"Well… that was weird."

The Pensieve mist fell back to reveal Albus' bed and the figures around it. James leant back against his brother's bedroom wall as it faded into view. He didn't want to say anything. He thought this might already be a gloomy enough affair without him butting in.

"Weird?" Keegan turned to Scorpius, who was standing by Albus' headboard. "That was incredible!" The scruffy brown haired boy waved his hand at a stray wisp, scattering it into the air. His face, as usual, was lit up in an easy smile. James wasn't surprised to see the boy keeping up his cheerful nature. He tended to do that in dire situations, where others would rather brood. "Did you see the look on your face when Albus started laying into you? Hah! You sure know how to make a great first impression mate."

Scorpius looked down at him. Of brooding, James thought, here was a good example. In the dim evening light the sombre young Malfoy heir looked years older, though that may have been more to do with the last few months. Nothing aged a person's face like tragedy, James was discovering all too quickly.

"I think your experience that day was a little different from mine, Keegan," Scorpius said dryly. He frowned down at Albus' still form for a moment before looking back up. It seemed to James that he was having trouble looking at Albus for very long. "And I'm not really in a laughing mood if I'm being quite honest."

James followed his gaze to the person sitting next to Keegan. Amy had barely said a word since she arrived, and now she just sat there at the foot of the bed, staring miserably at nothing from under her pale blonde hair. Her fist was clutching a fistful of Albus' bed sheets. The moonlight spilling in through the window gave her fair skin and hair a distinctively ghostly look. The change from the chirpy little girl James had known was so drastic she might have been a completely different person.

An uncomfortable pause briefly settled over the room as both boys lapsed into silence, as if doing so would coax something out of their normally vocal friend. Before long it was mercifully broken by Keegan.

"Hah! Because you're usually such a big barrel of laughs, Scorpius?"

When Scorpius didn't reply Keegan ran his hands through his hair, messy enough to put even the Potter men to shame. "But that was amazing wasn't it, seeing the first time we met? What a trip. Merlin, we looked tiny back then, you could barely recognise us."

That much was understatement. Albus' three friends looked drastically different from the pint sized first years they had just watched scurry through the Hogwarts corridors.

Scorpius had always been a skinny boy, but now his bony features had filled out to give the boy a sharp, hawkish look. Instead of the wide eyed runt James remembered the boy standing next to Albus' bed looked like a true pureblood heir from the old stories; poised, regal, with piercing eyes and an impassive face under a neatly trimmed head of blonde hair like some elegant bird of prey. He was wearing exquisitely cut robes and a ring on his right hand jewelled with an emerald.

"Well a lot has changed since then," he said.

Keegan leant back and exhaled. "Isn't that true."

If the years had refined Scorpius' looks, they had given Keegan's features a much more down to earth treatment. The messy young kid had been replaced by a stocky, scruffy dressed boy. He had the beginnings of a beard along the bottom of his weathered looking face and eyes that would have better suited a man of fifty. He looked much older than he was, with an air of experience that did not suit his laughter filled features. But undoubtedly the biggest chance was the scar across his left temple, where a jagged cut scraped down centimetres from his eye. James still remembered that night, and he still wondered how the boy was still alive.

"Stupid..."

As one their heads turned to Amy, who still hadn't looked up.

"What was that Ames?"

The girl didn't reply. It was heartbreaking to see her like this just after seeing her cheerful, ridiculously excitable first year self. Her hair, always a shade of blonde that edged onto silver, fell over her shoulders in a confused sprawl over her plain white t-shirt and jeans. She had been experimenting with colouring charms over the last year, James remembered, and the fading remnants of various hues blacks and whites still streaked across her hair in evidence of her abandoned efforts. She was sleek and athletic looking, but weeks of poor sleep had given here a pale, haunted look that James was not used to. However, it was her face that truly set her apart from her younger self. She looked leaner and not as baby faced as she once had, but all in all her features hadn't changed all that much. But where her face had once been lit up with infectious laughter all James saw now was a miserable girl with a face aged beyond her fifteen years.

Both Keegan and Scorpius leaned forward, eager to get another reaction.

"Amy?" Scorpius asked hesitantly.

For a moment Amy looked like she might say something, but it was gone in a blink. She stood up calmly, as if nothing had happened, and turned and left the room without another word. The spot where her fist had been coiled on the bed was still scrunched with the indentations of her fingers.

Keegan fell back into his chair with a sigh and Scorpius frowned at nothing. James watched her go from his spot by the door. "Has she been like that since…?"

"Since just after the attack, yeah," Keegan said, "After she woke up in St. Mungo's we told her about Al…"

"And she hasn't been the same since," Scorpius finished, "At first we thought it might have been some lingering effects from her injuries but…" He looked at the doorway she had left through, then returned to his sullen silence.

They look defeated, James thought. They couldn't look any more different from the cheerful kids they had just watched running through the halls. Even Keegan's carefree nonchalance had a forced air to it, while Scorpius' stoic manner carried a look of barely concealed desperation. He seemed to have trouble looking directly at Albus lifeless body, never looking his way for more than a moment before averting his gaze.

It had only been a couple of months since the school term had ended, but they looked unsettlingly frayed by the events that had passed. Although, looking at his reflection in the darkness of the window, James supposed he wasn't much better off.

Before the attack he had been powerfully built, athletic and cocky. He had felt invincible. Now he looked like a haggard old cripple. He had been promised by the medi wizards at St. Mungo's that he wouldn't suffer any drastic permanent disfiguration from his wounded face, but he was still nervous to see the bandages come off next week. His eye was still nauseatingly bloodshot. And just what does 'drastic' account for anyway? A Roaschmark curse to the cheek wasn't really something you just walked off.

"Well there's nothing that can be done for now," James told them. How many times had he been told the same thing over the last few months? He had little doubt that Albus' friends hated hearing it as much as he had. "I'm gonna head downstairs, do you to want to…?"

"You go on ahead James, we'll be down in a bit," Keegan said, "It's been so long since we've been able to see Al, it feels wrong to leave him up here after just getting here."

Scorpius gave a silent nod of agreement. Fair enough. James knew just how close the whole group were, it was natural for them to want to spend some time alone with their friend. Merlin knew he had spent enough time brooding alone in this room. He turned to go. "Well don't spend the whole night up here. This place has seen its fair share of moping without you two adding to it… Besides," he said as he walked out the door, "There's a party on."

He left them and headed towards the living room, the sounds of the party fading up from below. It had been too long since James had heard the sound of laughter in this house, and Teddy's return was a welcome excuse to throw a family gathering. Maybe this was what they needed to bring some life back to what was all too quickly becoming a mausoleum.

He paused at the top of the stairs the do up a loose shoelace, when he heard Keegan's voice faintly from the other room.

"You should tell her mate."

There was a pause. Even from another room it felt heavy.

"Tell her what?" Scorpius' voice sounded tense. James hovered at the top of the steps, not wanting to eavesdrop, but suddenly he was shamefully curious.

"You know what. What you thought I would just let it go?"

"I think you're an idiot. And you have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't try and play it off Scorpius. I saw how you were when you came back after the Christmas holiday with your family. And honestly, I understand. I didn't want to say anything to the others because I knew it wasn't my place to-"

"That's right; it's not your place."

"C'mon mate, don't be a dick about it. You can barely look at Al, and I can see that you can't stop looking at Ames. It's clear enough you want to say something to either of them but… Ah, but either way it doesn't matter anymore. What you knew then, what you know now, it's too late to change it. It doesn't matter. It's in the past. You need to get it out, it's killing you… You can't tell Al, not yet, but you can tell her."

Another pause. James was frozen on the spot. He really shouldn't be doing this. He really shouldn't.

"You think its something she really wants to hear right now?" Scorpius sounded much younger than moments ago, more like his own age.

"I never said you should do it for her," came Keegan's sigh, "It's eating you up mate. In your own way it's almost as bad as Amy."

"What would you know?" Scorpius hissed suddenly. His voice was laced with venom.

There was another pause before Keegan replied. If he was threatened by Scorpius' tone he didn't sound it. "I know enough mate… And… It's not your fault. You had no way of knowing..."

The silence now was an oppressive, weighty thing. Even over the sounds from downstairs, James ears were so keenly tuned in that he heard the snap of Scorpius' heels just in time to dart down the stairs and out of sight as the Slytherin boy stormed out the room.

What the hell was that all about?

* * *

Two days.

Two days and he still felt like someone had taken a beater's club to his entire body.

The sounds of talk and jovial laughter echoed through from the garden, and Harry winced as he straightened up from the fridge. He had two Butterbeers in one hand, two bottles of Clearwater Brew in the other.

"'You get the drinks Harry'," he grumbled to no one, "'Being up and active is the best thing you can do in your state.' God help me that woman will be the death of me."

It had only been two days since Cliffcoat, and Harry felt no better. He swore his body was sorer than it was yesterday. How was that fair?

He spun on the spot as Lucy raced past him and out the door. She was chased by a squealing Roxanne, both girls crying excitedly as they raced through the house. Over in the corner of the living room he could see Rose and Lily huddled together, talking in hushed whispers. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but perhaps a father was better off not knowing. He ambled through the open door and out into the garden.

A long table had been set up on the porch, covered with a chequered table cloth and lined with food. At a barbeque stand Arthur, Teddy and Percy stood with drinks in hand, watching the food and chatting amiably. Zipping around everyone on a miniature broom was Louis, while the rest of the younger children were sitting with Molly, Hermione, Ron and Percy's wife Audrey under a tall oak in the centre of the garden. They were stuffing themselves with burgers, sausages, chicken wings and an assortment of meats- all stacked with a seemingly endless array of side dishes prepared by Molly- and listening to Ron tell outrageously exaggerated stories about his school years.

He handed the bottles to Ginny as she walked past, earning a peck on the cheek for his troubles, before ambling over to the table to grab a chicken wing. Someone had set up the Wireless on the table and the greatest hits of The Floating Gnomes played softly in the warm night air.

He eased himself into a nearby chair for a moment while he looked out over everyone, enjoying the sight of his family around him. It was ridiculous how sore his legs still were. Just a few seconds while you eat this, he told himself, then up on your feet.

Over where the garden began to slope down towards the pond, Bill and George were taking turns to charm their feet with water repelling charms and walk out onto the water, cheered from the sidelines by a breathlessly laughing Ginny, Fleur and Angelina. From what Harry could make out there was some sort of bet on to see who could get the furthest out onto the water. Judging from each brother's soaking clothes and looks of concentration it was a close contest, despite the fact that neither of them could get more than two steps before their feet flew out from under them.

He turned his attention back to the group closest to him, as the Fred and Hugo started arguing loudly over which one of them had gotten in the most dangerous situation; no doubt inspired by just hearing Ron's story of the Chamber of Secrets (which somehow ended with his friend blowing the basilisk's brain out with a muggle shotgun after being swallowed whole).

"Now don't start thinking that it's a good thing to get yourself into danger," Molly told them reproachfully, her broad, good natured face looking stern. "You kids have had enough trouble in your lives to make an old woman weep. Merlin help me, you young ones seem to have danger come looking for you without even trying." She gestured to Hermione, who looked up from the corn on the cob she was eating, "I mean, just looked at that whole episode with that awful Syrian man."

That quickly caught the kid's attention. They both stopped arguing as Hugo's red topped head snapped to his mother. "What happened with the Syrian man, mum?"

Hermione slowly finished her mouthful of corn, looking caught out. She brushed back a stray hair as she stalled for time. Finally she smiled patiently down at her son, "Nothing exciting dear, Gran's just being fussy again."

Hugo looked back and forth between his mum and his grandmother, before he gave a pout, "You're lying. You never tell me when something interesting is happening."

Molly looked abashed, "Hugo!"

Ron patted his mother's arm placatingly. The side of his face was a mess of dark, painful looking bruises, and he still had a bandage wrapped around his head, "Relax mum. Hugo don't talk to your mother that way." Even so he turned to his wife, ignoring what Harry recognised as a look of warning that she was giving him. "But come on Hermione, the boy was there in the first place. What's the harm?"

Hermione frowned at him, "He was one year old Ron! That hardly counts. And besides, it's not exactly a story that's suitable for…kids…" She looked back at the assembled children. They were now hanging off her every word. Smart as she was, the woman should have known better than mention the possibility of a story that might not be suitable for them.

She sighed heavily, setting aside her plate. "Well…one time there was a man who had been going through…business dealings… with your father. And he thought he could get your father's… attention by having a friend of his – the Syrian wizard Gran mentioned - paying me a visit at home."

Hugo looked excitedly up, "And?"

Hermione looked thoughtful. "And he was…very rude. So mummy got rid of him."

The boy looked disbelievingly back and forth between the adults. "That's it?"

Ron chuckled merrily, the Clearwater Brew bottle in his hand sloshing as he gestured, "Let me put it this way kids. Life lesson from Uncle Ron: Don't threaten a witch who got a hundred and twenty seven percent on her Transfiguration NEWTS when her babies are in the house."

The assembled kids looked back and forth to each other, puzzled by the lesson, while Hermione cuffed Ron lightly over the head.

"How're you feeling old man?"

Harry looked up behind him and smiled. Standing over him was the grinning face of his godson. Teddy's hair was a bright electric blue tonight, and he wore muggle clothes of worn denim and leather.

"Like hell, thanks for asking," he said as Teddy took a seat next to him, "And knock it off with the 'old man' thing. I'm in recovery I should be treated with respect."

"I can see that," Teddy gave him a once over with his eyes, his metamorphagus face twisting into a grimace, "You look like you've been put through a meat grinder Harry."

And he wasn't exaggerating either. Harry had spent the day after Cliffcoat in his own private world of pain as his body recovered from the countless wounds he had taken. He still had to go into work, so he had spent most of his day at his desk, taking meetings, briefings, debriefings, reports, giving orders and filling paperwork while moving as little as possible. Ginny had cussed him out when she saw the state of him, but the gentle ministering that had followed almost made it worth it.

"Quite the gathering isn't it?" Teddy asked, indicating the family members and friends dotted around the garden, talking and laughing with plates full of steaming food. "Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

"You sure that's not the Firewhisky?"

"That might have something to do with it, I'll admit."

"What can I say Teddy, you're a popular guy. I can definitely vouch that you're my favourite godson."

Teddy laughed. Ron and Hermione may have made Harry Rose's godfather, but Teddy knew he was Harry's only godson. "Thanks for that old man, but if I'm being honest I have a sneaking suspicion that this gathering wasn't entirely for my benefit."

Harry found himself nodding in agreement. The same thought had crossed his mind.

When he had found out just how many people would be turning up tonight, Harry couldn't help but think that the turn out was a little too generous to not have an ulterior motive. Not to take away from Teddy's popularity within the family, the boy had always been friendly and well liked, and was loved like any other child of the Weasely family. But for the entire family to make the effort to come out and visit, with Bill and Fleur from France and Charlie all the way from Vietnam... the boy had only been gone a few months!

No, Harry suspected Molly's hand in this.

He looked down the table at her as she chastised Ron for something and felt a warmth in him that had nothing to do with the alcohol. It was no secret that the family was taking Albus' situation hard, and it would be just like her to set something like this up to lift everyone's spirits. Besides, who else would be able to enforce such an ultimatum but the formidable Weasely matriarch?

At first Harry had thought it was bad taste to have what was essentially a party in his garden while his youngest son lie comatose in bed upstairs. But he had won over by Ginny's argument that dwelling in misery over something he couldn't change benefited no one. In fact, seeing how quiet and withdrawn Lucy had become in recent weeks made Harry think that the air of negativity around the house might actually be harming his family.

Besides, Lord Noctis was definitely right about one thing. There were dark days coming. And if Harry and his family were going to have any chance of weathering it they were going to have to take all the moments of joy they could get before it was too late.

"How are things going anyway?" Teddy pressed on, his face looking serious all of a sudden. Harry knew what he was asking about.

"Better," he admitted, "For a while there we were all pretty down. But I think we're getting there, bit by bit."

"And this Lord Noctis bloke? It's all the papers have been going on about."

"Noctis is a problem," Harry admitted with a sigh, "But not one I'm going to worry about tonight."

"What, not looking to talk shop tonight? I know what the papers have said about the Cliffcoat Incident but I wanted to-"

"The Cliffcoat Incident?" Harry laughed bitterly, "I want a copy of whatever paper you've been reading Teddy, cos the Daily Prophet's been calling it by a different name for the last few days."

Teddy looked like he had taken a bite out of something rotten, "What 'The Cliffcoat Disaster'? I take everything I read in the Prophet with a pinch of salt. I reckoned they were just playing things up again. Nothing sells papers these days like a good Ministry bashing."

Harry pressed the ball of his palm to his eye socket, "Ugh, if I'm being honest Skeeter's not far off their money with the whole thing this time."

"Was it really that bad?"

A rising Dark Lord operating in the UK made a move against the government itself. But it wasn't an attack, not really. It was a feeler, a test to see how the Ministry would react when threatened. And how did they do? They flipped out and brought down the full force of their power at the first mention of Lord Noctis. And what was the result? Twenty seven Aurors and three muggles dead, with twice as many wounded; all without anything to show for it. Cliffcoat had been all but gutted in the attack. The Muggle Relations Department was in an uproar, and they weren't alone. With the Daily Prophet fanning the flames, the public – still reeling from the corruption scandal – were voicing their outrage all across the country. Ministry confidence was at its lowest in years. The whole Cliffcoat affair was turning into the biggest fiasco in the country since Minister Candlekeep turned out to be a particularly cunning Cluracan in disguise.

If Cliffcoat really was the first move in a new war, Noctis had won it hands down.

And that was all operating under the assumption that it wasn't simply a diversion to pull off some other move while the majority of the Auror division was distracted. Harry hadn't been able to find any evidence of any unusual movements going down while he was in Cliffcoat, but not finding something and it not being there were two very different things.

"It's not great," he admitted finally, "But I'm not worrying about it tonight. If you want a play-by-play ask Ron, I'm sure he'll be happy to talk you through it. But me, I'm going to enjoy myself while I can because its going to be a meat grinder tomorrow."

For a moment Teddy looked like he might say something, but whatever he saw on Harry's face made him sigh instead. "Fair enough Harry. God knows you've earned a little time off." He took another drink from his glass. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're alright." He gave Harry's shoulder a firm slap, "And don't worry about this Noctis ponce; you've got this in the bag."

The absurdity of the statement made Harry laugh despite himself, but even so he thanked his godson and conjured a glass for himself. Teddy pulled a bottle of Firewhisky out of a ludicrously small pocket from his inside jacket and poured him a measure. They both settled back as the night went on happily around them, chatting and enjoying the occasional bite of food forced onto them. Before long Harry had tears of laughter running down his face as Teddy related back stories from his work assignment in Sweden.

Teddy had taken a job as a liaison for Gringott's after working at the Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures for a few years. His work took him all over the world, and had him working with both magical creatures and muggles (his two best subjects at Hogwarts) on a regular basis. It seemed that Teddy had grown to share Arthur's love of muggle culture, and apparently his work had allowed him plenty of opportunities to socialise outside of the job.

"…So there I am, trousers around my ankles, trying to explain away my hair going from black to bright red and my eyes going blue as a 'photosensitive genetic condition'. And all the while she's stark naked, throwing everything within reach at me and shouting at me about something I don't understand but I'm pretty sure involved the words 'fairy demon'…"

Harry chortled, wiping tears from his glasses. "So what did you do?"

"Well, drunk as I was, I figured it'd be a much easier to just pack it in and get out there as soon as humanly possibly."

"So you bolted for the door."

"Now, that would have been a good idea. But you see the window was right there…"

"You didn't…"

"Three floors. Broke my bloody ankle."

Harry doubled over with another fit of laughter, while Teddy squawked indignantly. "Hey it's funny now, but I had to limp through the streets of Stockholm topless, wandless, and drunk as hell with a busted ankle…"

Out the corner of his eye Harry caught James walking out the back door, scratching absently at the bandage on his face. Harry regarded him as he walked down to his uncles by the pond, still nodding to Teddy's story. He would need to talk to his son at some point.

Harry was not so stupid as to think James had been sitting idle the last few days like he was supposed to. He had checked the floo archive, like he checked all the wards and entry points to the house at the end of the day. He found that someone had made a trip away from and back to the house the day of the Cliffcoat Incident. That alone wasn't enough reason to suspect his son of disobeying his orders to stay safe at home; but the fact that Arthur knew nothing about the warning broadcast that had gone out, coupled with James looking even more sheepish and guilty afterwards, gave Harry no doubts that James was going out of his way to endanger himself when the family had already been through so much

Harry frowned down at his glass of Firewhisky. If the thought of such a confrontation alone was enough to put as much of a dampener on Harry's mood as it was, then a full fledged argument with his son would effectively kill the party stone dead.

He would need to talk to his son, but not tonight. Beside him, Teddy gave a yelp as he was suddenly yanked onto his feet, startling Harry until he saw Victoire's dazzling smile as she pulled him across the garden to dance to The Floating Gnomes' "A Witch In My Closet". There was a explosion of brilliant purple overhead as Arthur began letting off muggle fireworks (a gift from Charlie's time in Vietnam), and the night sky came alive with bursts of colour. All around him, Harry heard laughter and music and couldn't help but smile. The Potter house felt alive for the first time in far too long. This is what he was fighting for. This was home.

And if their was a hint of anxiety in the laughter, a suggestion of self distraction in the expanding group of dancing bodies across the garden, then Harry chose to overlook it.

Dark days were coming. There was no doubting that.

But tonight, Harry was going to enjoy himself.

* * *

Elias Wednesday had never been much of a heavy sleeper, but after the disaster of the op in Alaska he started waking up at the slightest disturbance. His nerves were shot, but he could be up and ready at a moments notice. That was why he was already wide awake by the time they made it into his living room.

His eyes had snapped open when he heard the lock on the door go. It only took him a handful of seconds to set up a quick Effinigo charm to put a duplicate image in his stead, place a Disillusionment charm on himself and creep behind his bedroom door, where he waited…

They shouldn't prove to be too much trouble, probably some Muggle thugs looking to rob the old recluse of the neighbourhood. His house was certainly big enough; it wasn't the first time it had attracted unwanted attention from thieves and junkies trying to make a quick few quid. Or maybe they were some overconfident teenagers with more curiosity than sense. Either way, they clearly didn't realise who they were fucking with, they weren't even bothering to keep silent.

"…thought you said you knew where the bedroom was." A voice said, slightly muffled through the walls.

"I do," a second voice hissed, "Put its pitch bloody black in here in case you hadn't noticed. If we could just-"

"No light."

"But-"

"No light." No room for argument. That must be the one in charge.

"Fine, fine… Jesus, what crawled up your arse?"

"I'm sticking to the job. Have you forgotten why we're here?"

"Uh huh…" the second voice sounded bored.

From the sounds of it they had reached the pantry, they were getting closer. Job, the first man had said. What job?

"But I'm so sorry that I want to do this properly. It was stupid of me to think we should do this by the book. We've had enough screw ups already."

"What screw ups?"

There was a pause. Elias could hear his own heart racing.

"Oooh, that's it," the second voice continued after the first didn't respond. "You're still sore that you weren't picked to go first."

The first voice made a sound of disgust. The arrogance of these two, to think they could make this much noise! "It's nothing as juvenile as who went first... But yes, I still think I should have been the one to lead that attack, instead of getting stuck bumbling around in the dark on yet another midnight run. And with you of all people."

"Oh lucky you... Anyway, so you weren't picked, let it go."

"And I was right, it turned out," the first voice continued, "Getting knocked to the floor, nearly getting captured, it's disgraceful. You know I would have done a much better job than-"

"Maybe you would have, maybe you wouldn't… But ease up will you? You sound like a miserable old woman. We weren't there; we don't know how it went down at the time."

Elias tightened his grip on his wand. He didn't understand what these two punks were talking about, but it didn't really matter. He was eager to get started, his blood was already rising.

Reckless, the review board had told him. A danger to his teammates. Mental trauma, they had diagnosed. From that clusterfuck in Alaska - as if they had the slightest beginnings of a clue as to what they were talking about! Unfit for duty. The disgrace, the shame of it! Thank you for your years of dedicated service. A generous severance package has been arranged…

After everything he had given this country, he was thrown out like another piece of trash. Swept away and out of sight to be forgotten like a shameful little secret. Anger burned inside him at the unfairness of it all. With each passing day he was becoming more and more the bitter old man his idiot Muggle neighbours thought him to be. The acidic, impotent resentment built up day after day as he wasted away. He had drunk himself to sleep most nights, and tonight was no different. But his nerves were still sharp, he was ready, hell he was looking forward to this!

The two voices continued, heedless of the wrath that waited for them.

"Since when were you the voice of reason?" The first voice asked.

"I'm just saying, it's not like we didn't get what we wanted. And either way, you know that tangle was just a little extra, coming out on top wasn't vital for the mission…" They were close now. Very close. "Besides, you really think you could go toe to toe with Harry freaking Potter?"

His heart stopped.

Harry Potter.

These two were wizards, not muggles! Did they know who he was? Were they here to take him out? He had no shortage of enemies after a career like his.

No, it was more than that. They were talking about an attack… An attack… The papers been going on about it…

Cliffcoat!

Elias' threat assessment of his two intruders skyrocketed.

The first voice didn't respond for a moment, and Elias lost a sense of where they were. Then all of a sudden he heard the response, right on the other side of the door. Inches away. "This is it."

The door opened silently as two dark outlines entered the room. They were cloaked and hooded, and made no sound as they spread out across the carpet. They were moving towards his bed. Even in the darkness his eyes could make out the images of wands in their hands.

It was insulting. If they had an idea of who he was, they should know better than to be so overconfident. Strutting into his home bold as brass. He might not have been as young as he used to, but he was definitely not someone to be underestimated like this. He would make them regret that, no matter who they might be.

He stepped forward, bringing his wand to bear. No time for hesitation, no time for mercy, he had to be sure.

"Avada Kedavra!"

He had always been quick, but Elias had never cast two spells so fast in his life. His hate burst desperately out of him in flashes of cold pale green. The second flash of green erupted from his wand before the first had even struck home. The first figure was caught in the back, the second in the side as he turned.

They both dropped to the floor. They were both stone dead before they even had time to react.

Silence fell.

Elias swallowed a gasp of air and wiped the sheen of sweat from his forehead. He was panting heavily despite only casting two spells. His nerves felt like they were on fire he was so amped up. He took a careful step forward, almost too nervous to move. He couldn't be too careful. He had to be sure. If these men worked for the new Dark Lord then he couldn't afford to-

"The Killing Curse, Mr. Wednesday?"

He spun around, wand snapping up, but it was already too late. He felt his body freeze up as the Body-Bind Hex hit him.

"And right off the bat? You sure don't mess around."

There they were, standing in the doorway. The two figures.

Impossible! He had watched them enter the room. He had killed them with his own wand! How had they…?

"Look at his face," the one of the left said. It spoke with the second voice he had heard. "He looks so confused! Aw bless, looks like you really got him."

They both stepped into the room, and the first figure waved his wand at Elias. He was slightly taller than the other one, but with their hooded cloaks he couldn't make out any other differences. Elias felt himself revolve on the spot to face where he had seen the two men fall moments before.

There was nothing there. Just the empty room. The bodies were gone.

He realised they had left him enough movement to speak.

"But… I saw you…" he gasped, "I saw you…"

"I'm afraid that was a lie, Mr. Wednesday," the first figure said, stepping into view and standing right where his dead double had been moments before. "My apologies. A little more complex than your…" He leaned over the bed to examine the still form of Elias's own illusion, "…Effinigo, looks like… but the basic principles are the same."

"You knew?" he understood with a wave of horrible clarity, "You knew I would be awake?"

"Doesn't sleep well. Extremely hostile to intruders. Expect Mr. Elias Wednesday to be up and active when you arrive." The second figure walked also into view to sit on the bed, counting off one hand as he spoke. His tone was mocking. "Looks like our info was dead on."

Elias was still numb with disbelief, "What are you talking about? Whose info?"

The first figure leaned close. "I think you know whose."

He stared up into the darkness of that hood and saw nothing. The empty blackness stared back at him, filling his vision. For the first time in over a year, Elias Wednesday felt fear.

"Lord Noctis," he breathed.

The darkness of the hood retreated as the man straightened up. "That's right. We were sent here to seek you out specifically. Our Lord sent us to find you."

That fear, like a poison, was creeping through his veins, paralysing him just as well as any Body-Bind hex. Alaska all over again, but this time he couldn't get away. It would be him this time, his screams in the dark…

"Why?" he managed to stammer out, his voice sounding as weak as he felt.

This time the second figure leaned forward, "We have an offer for you, Mr. Wednesday," he said with an amused tone that did nothing to settle his nerves. "And I have an inkling that you're gonna like it."

* * *

The Potter house was silent. Shadows bathed each room, washing over the furniture and walls in a curtain of pitch darkness. The sky outside was clear and still, the jet black sky blazoned with a piercingly pale moon. The Potters lay in bed.

And Harry Potter slept.

Most of the guests had left hours before, and Teddy, despite Harry's protests, had returned to his own flat in London. Ginny had stayed up for a while talking with Amy long after Lily and James had gone to bed. It wasn't until the hallway clock had grumpily informed them that a girl Amy's age shouldn't be up so late and the girl had finally floo'd home. Harry had been cleaning the night's mess before deciding to finish up in the morning as he and Ginny retired to bed. The halls and stairs of their house stood vigil in the darkness, undisturbed and unaware. The doors secure and shut, the Potter house rested in the night.

And Harry Potter slept.

The moon and stars hung in the night sky, clear and brilliant. The night air was cold and brittle, but no wind stirred. For the moment, it seemed as if the entire world had fallen still, like the entire world slept. The earth turned, slow and unnoticed, and in their beds the Potters knew nothing, cared for nothing. They slept in their beds and forgot the world around them. Up in his wide bed, holding his wife, Harry Potter slept.

And Harry Potter _dreamed_.

* * *

He had to find it. He clambered over roots and fallen branches, gnarled and twisted with age. His hands supported him, gripping hanging limbs and climbing up and over obstructions as he made his way through the thick trees. Moss and lichen grew over everything, making his way slippery and unsure. The branches overhead obscured the sky, so the diminished light made it hard to see where he was going.

But he had to find it. That he knew. Even if he did not know what it was.

He looked under logs and branches and overturned stones. But he could not find it. Worry gnawed at his gut like a living thing, and his heart quickened inside his chest. It was important. So important. But he couldn't remember why. He had seen things, terrible things, and he needed answers. He needed to know what to do next, after his search came to an end and objective and reason crumbled away.

His wandering hands found a creaking tree trunk in his path. It ached with the weight of years, black with the ravages of time and falling apart. He gripped at it with both hands and heaved it out of his way. The ground fell away from it like a torn scab, and the muck and dirt crumbled away as it toppled. Grave dirt, he was close.

His feet scrambled over wet leaves and dead things that he did not want to know. It was here, he knew, it was close. This was not where he left it. He was sure. Or he could have been, it was so hard to tell. Time had twisted the landscape, making it a stranger that did not recognise him. He did not know the way as he used to, and it had been many many years since he had walked this place. The years had come and gone to mark and change this place as they had done him, and they were both not the same as they had been all those years ago.

He rounded a boulder veined with black ore and green mould and came upon the place where it was. He did not see it, but he knew it was there. Everything was exactly how it had been all those years ago. The woods spread out in a clearing, leaving the sky open overhead like a wound. A single pale moon shone with no stars; nothing to protect him from the endless blackness of the terrible sky.

Always, they had said back then. But he did not know what that meant. He had left it here, and saw them for the last time. It had given him hope and strength when he needed it most, and he had left it behind when he walked on. It was the right thing to do then, and it was still here now that he needed it once again.

He saw it there, in the dirt and the leaves. It was covered and unseen, stomped into the muck and forgotten, but he saw it anyway. It shone it the moonlight, reflecting the pale light. It seemed to wink like a living thing as he walked to it. It has been here all these years, and now he had come back to find it again. He reached out to touch it. Here were the answers he needed. Maybe he would hear them again. See them again, one more time. Always, they had said. Though he did not know now what that meant.

He reached out and felt his hand close around it, cold, smooth. It was his again, as it always was. Now the way was open for him. The woods parted. The twisted black branches coiling away from his gaze. Answers, secrets, they were his now. And so were the voices, the faces. They were here again, they had never left.

Always, they had said.

But no, that was not his. That was not how this happened. This was not right. A line from a story never written. A whisper stolen from air and darkness and shadow.

He made his choice then, and he remembered now why he had done it. He still had one in his possession, the one that had been his from the beginning. It was enough. The other two were not for keeping, Harry remembered almost too late. But remembered he did, and so he turned away. He moved on. He grasped the firm handle of the door that filled his vision and pulled and walked through. He left the twisted woods behind and…

He walked the corridors of his house, passing pale lamps and dim candles. The darkness was not banished by their light, only thickened and given volume.

Each time he passed through he feared he would forget himself in the darkness, and wander forever these hallways not knowing who he was or what he was here to do. His feet tapped against the soft wood, and he kept to his path. He entered the kitchen and saw Ginny, sitting at the kitchen table in her bathrobe. The light coming through the window did not dispel the night, it only carved out a pale golden piece of solid space for him to see her. He put his hand on her shoulder.

"Ginny? Where are the children?"

Her face was covered by her thick red hair, so he could not tell what she was looking at. "Ginny? Where are they? I need to find them."

The voice that came from under the hair was throaty and hoarse, "But you already found them," she told him, "You found them and you found them and you found them."

Harry pulled his hand away like it had been burned. He took a step back, fear creeping through his veins. She didn't know what she was saying. She couldn't know what she was saying.

"You found them and found them and found them…"

He took another step. This wasn't his wife. Whatever this was, it was something mad and something terrible.

"And found them and found them and found them…"

Her face turned up to him and the dark hairs fell away to reveal two dark endless pits instead of eyes. Empty wells that he could fall into and never see the light of day again.

"But you didn't bring them BACK!"

Her face was a shrieking scar, horrible to look upon, and Harry felt hot tears run down his cheeks as he stepped back. Terror gripped him in an iron fist. This was not his wife, his wife was waiting for him elsewhere with the sun on her face and their kids under her arms. He had to get away. He had to escape.

He turned and walked to the front door. He had to get out. He wanted to run, to scream and tear out of the doorway as fast as he could.

But he could not run, if he ran she would fall upon him, and tear him screaming apart. All this he knew with absolute clarity, so he walked to the door with a desperate calm, each step taking a lifetime, until he pulled the handle and was away…

The desert sand shifted under his feet, sinking and falling and rising again so he had to keep moving in order to keep his balance. The sand was a deep burnt orange, and the night sky above was a fathomless midnight blue. A thousand thousand stars blazed overhead, beautiful to look upon. They cascaded over and into each other with the light and majesty of far away constellations and nebula, blinking and shining like jewels.

On all sides the desert stretched away endlessly, but Harry was not afraid. Here and there torches were staked into the ground, each as tall as a man, and each burned with a warm glow. Embers trailed off them and drifted off into the night, winking fire as they went.

Harry walked from torch to torch, feeling the warmth of the fire between the cool kiss of the darkness between them. They were spaced unevenly, sometimes a minute between them, sometimes up to five. But they formed a rough line in the sand, he saw as he walked, a way for him to follow.

His head felt clearer with each step he took, as he crossed over dunes and shifting slopes. He had been so afraid before, and so lost before that, but now he knew that he was on the right path. The torches lit the way, he knew, to the answer to all things. The source of it all, the final truth of the world and worlds beyond. Of all and everything.

But he could not turn around, he also knew. He knew it with a lucidity he had never known before.

Because there was something there. Something was behind him. He knew it with a flattening, irrefutable clarity.

It had found him in this place. Or it had always been there, all his days and he had never noticed. Or perhaps he had created it himself. He didn't know anymore, if he ever did. But he could not turn around. To turn around was to fall forever.

This was its place, and he did not want to disturb it with his presence.

He climbed another dune bathed in shadow towards a torch planted at the crest, lit with a warm orange halo in the darkness. When he reached the top he gazed out over the desert and saw the trail of torches dotted here and there across the boundless sea of sand, stretching away to infinity. He stood there a moment, feeling his lungs take in the warm air. It was very beautiful here, and very peaceful. But he wanted to reach the end. To know the truth of everything, the answer of creation. He wanted it with an ache that came from deep within his bones and his soul.

Harry Potter stood on that high dune in the torchlight and wondered just how much further it was to go.

It came to him then, the one that was following him. Its voice sent a sudden chill of recognition through him.

"_Much further, Harry… much, much further. But you have seen enough tonight_"_._

And Harry Potter woke.

And forgot again.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Well that's another chapter down. Another long wait I know but I have good excuses. One is starting a new job the other is placing a bet with a friend of mine that I couldn't write a screenplay draft in a month. The stakes were paying for an entire night of drinking, so took some time away to make sure I didn't lose that one.**

**Anyhoo, lots of stuff happening in this chapter. Finally seen what Albus' group is like in the present, which is to say completely different from the group we'll see in his memories. Quite a bit of backstory there, so can't wait to get into it all.**

**And seen a bit more of what Lord Noctis is up to. Got that scene done in one go without stopping, which is rare for me and one of the reasons I like that scene as much as I do.**

**And Harry's dream. Now this is the first glimpse of what will slowly become a larger part of the story (the clue is in the title...) so I'm eager to see what people make of it. I purposefully wrote it to be different from the rest of the story, trying to put across the surreal nature of dreams. I also reread Sandman for the fiftieth time for inspiration, so blame Mr. Gaiman if you didn't like it. I'm sure he won't mind.**

**So yeah, big stuff coming. I've got lots of later stuff written out already and it's shameful how eager I am to put it out. So get excited people, it's gonna be awesome!**

**And thanks for reading. Reviews and favourites put a big, stupid smile on my face for the rest of the day.**


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